That One Night
by therentyoupay
Summary: What's more fun than five different love triangles? When half the people don't even realize that they're in them. — Tahnorra, grad school!AU; in which Tahno knows a lot about swamps, Korra becomes his intern, and general chaos ensues. Collection of gift!fics for my tumblr followers, all inspired with the prompt: "That one night..." Rated M, mostly for language and citrus.
1. when Korra feels really, really homesick

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.  
**Pairing: **Tahno/Korra  
**Genre: **Romance/Angst/Drama/Hurt/Comfort/Humor (WE HAVE IT ALL.)**  
Word Count: **268  
**Summary: **An extra hot caffe mocha, a few Christmas lights, two stubborn graduate students, and the realization that it's all in the details; a holiday coming-together story written in pieces. — Collection of Tahnorra gift!fics for my tumblr followers, all inspired with the prompt: "That one night..."**  
Author's Notes: **_11/29/12_. Two to start us off!

**Musical Inspiration:** "Christmas Lights" by Coldplay.

**Gifted To: **_orocoro_

* * *

**That one night**

_Korra feels really, really homesick._

* * *

It was too late for winter.

"Korra," came Asami's soft voice from the other side of the small room. Korra glanced at her from the corner of her eye; she was standing in front of the mirror, brushing her long hair, and she hadn't looked up.

Korra gently curled her fingers around the warmth of her mug, feeling snug beneath a mountain of blankets, and waited.

"Are you sure you don't want to come?"

The inside of her hoodie was warm, the froth of her crappy hot chocolate was thick, and the very idea of trying to remove herself from this spot was simply too much.

"I don't think I'm up for it right now," she replied honestly.

Asami turned around then, dressed in a sleek little black dress designed to kill, and examined her roommate with curious, made-up eyes.

"I thought you loved the cold."

Korra glanced down at herself, layered and bundled, buried and hidden, and lifted her eyes toward the gentle cityscape outside. The window was lined with frost, and even the cars and lights seemed hushed in the snowy twilight.

"So did I," she whispered.

* * *

A half hour later, Tahno arrived in her mostly empty apartment, complaining of dissertations and cheap reading glasses and _certain young graduate students_ wasting his time. But he held an extra caffe mocha in his hand, extra hot, and the whipped cream was missing, just the way she liked it.

* * *

And Korra had always known

that you're not supposed to fall in love with your enemy.


	2. when they got lost in the woods

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.**  
Word Count: **511  
**Summary: **An extra hot caffe mocha, a few Christmas lights, two stubborn graduate students, and the realization that it's all in the details; a holiday coming-together story written in pieces. — Collection of Tahnorra gift!fics for my tumblr followers, all inspired with the prompt: "That one night..."**  
Author's Notes: **_11/29/12_. When inspiration hits, inspiration hits. Also, don't expect this in chronological order. :P I'll try to keep the timeline relatively clear, but. You know.

**Gifted To: **_kavos-plz_

* * *

**That one night**

_Korra and Tahno got lost in the woods.  
_

* * *

It'd all started with an accident.

"I hope you realize that this is entirely your fault."

Korra scoffed. "Just shut up and check the map," she glared nastily.

"The map won't help," he gritted through his teeth. "Professor Tenzin's probably already halfway down the river now, and by the time anybody realizes we're not with the truck, it'll be long after nightfall."

A snappy remark waited on her tongue—_what, you're not scared of the dark, are you?_—but they were without provisions, and this was serious.

"So try your phone again," she muttered, brows scrunching over the topographical lines. Now what were the red ones again?

"We don't. Have any. _Service_."

"Dude, what do you expect me to do?" she rounded on him, feeling the flimsy paper crumple in her grip, but beneath the exasperation, there is something too close to desperation in her voice. "We lost the trail. We've got two hours left of daylight. You can either stand there and complain the whole time about how we got ourselves lost—"

"How _we—_oh, yes, let us use the _royal we_, shall we, because that's exactly—"

"Or you can help me climb this tree."

A beat of silence.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Look, we need to find a way out, right?" she went on, her rapid words piling out into the brisk, rolling wind. "Help me get to the top and I'll be able to get us reoriented with the map."

"Are you... you have _got_ to be kidding," Tahno hesitated, and his frown deepened. "This pine alone is twenty feet up. You fall down from that and—well,_ that's it_."

"You got any better ideas?" she challenged.

As he looked away, a sharp exhale curled into the air. There was tension still, but it was a cold, creeping kind of strain that made her nervous; Korra didn't _do _nervous.

"Well?"

"What if I climbed up instead?"

Korra blinked. _What?_

"What?" she asked, bewildered. "_Could_ you?"

He huffed. "I've got as good of a chance as you do, don't I?"

"Please. You may be star student and all, but you do not strike me as the kind of kid who spent his summers building tree houses," she spared him a once-over glance; it wasn't particularly admiring. "Trust me, I've got this."

He rolled his eyes, and muttered something under his breath, which she didn't catch. She told herself she didn't care.

"Just don't die, all right?" he crossed his arms and stepped back, allowing her space to take hold of the first knot of bark. "I'd hate to have to carry back your sorry carcass."

She deliberately rammed his shoulder as she brushed past, and when he spat out another insult as she ascended—and this time she _heard_, so half the climb was spent conjuring a few choice words for when she touched back down—she decided that he wasn't half-bad.

It was the thought that counted, she supposed.


	3. Tahno got invited over for dinner

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.**  
Word Count: **494  
**Summary: **An extra hot caffe mocha, a few Christmas lights, two stubborn graduate students, and the realization that it's all in the details; a semi-holiday coming-together story written in pieces. — Collection of Tahnorra gift!fics for my tumblr followers, all inspired with the prompt: "That one night..."**  
Author's Notes: **_12/27/12_. So much for my 29 Days of Kris-mas. :P I'm going to try to have all of these done before the new year, meaning that I want most of them done _today_, so I'll post each one as they come to me.

**Gifted To: **_stardusted897_

* * *

**That one night**

_Tahno got invited over for dinner on Air Temple Island.  
_

* * *

"You got guilted into coming, too?"

Tahno looked up from his cocktail, which was just a little _too_ dry. The look he gave her was not a patient one.

"I'm surprised you were invited at all."

His once-over was not flattering, but that didn't stop her from taking the cushion next to his. He continued to eye her with distaste as she arranged herself at the low table; she was either completely oblivious to his annoyance, or simply didn't care. "Shouldn't you be off at a daycare center or something?"

"Such pretentiousness for a measly T.A. in training," she quipped, a devious smile playing at her lips as she unfolded her napkin; he let her comment slide, if only because he was so surprised that she even used one. "And you know," she whispered conspiratorially. "I actually think a daycare would be more bustling than this."

Unfortunately, she was right. The restaurant was far from empty, but their party offered very little in the hopes of genuine excitement. The average age must have been close to sixty-five, save for Professor Tenzin's quiet twelve-year-old, who looked ready to burst at being in the presence of so many intellectuals all at once.

_Well_, he thought, glancing to the side with narrowed eyes. _Mostly, anyway_.

"Shouldn't you be off schmoozing or something?" she asked, taking a sip from her water, and he couldn't tell if she was really curious, or distracted. "I mean, that is why you're here, right?"

"The associates here are all from the history department," Tahno responded with a heavy sigh, wishing absently that he were at a bar. Preferably something dark and dim, with cheap drinks and a stage. "There is little that they could offer me in the art of conversation, let alone in establishing connections."

"Because you would know all about that, right?" she smiled. Impishly, if he might add.

"I hope the incident in the woods hasn't led you to believe that this kind of interaction between us is acceptable."

"You should probably get used to it," she smacked her lips, eyeing the rim of her glass. "You're looking at your new lab assistant, after all."

"You... _you're_ the new intern?"

"Professor Tenzin was so impressed by my commitment to his research that he hired me on the spot," she shrugged casually, but he could _see_ the taunt swim wildly in her eyes. "Plus, it doesn't hurt that he's my godfather, I suppose."

Tahno could only stare at her, open-mouthed in alarm, as the rest of their party migrated from the bar toward their long table, where the servers began to busy themselves with taking drink orders down the line.

"I guess that makes us teammates now," she took another sip of water, smiling cheekily.

* * *

The next martini he drank wasn't nearly strong enough, nor were any of the ones that followed.


	4. Tahno met a very young fan

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.**  
Word Count: **648**  
Author's Notes: **_12/27/12_. I think the alternative title for this fic is: "In which Korra and Tahno are assholes to each other."

**Gifted To: **_ahlistenalison _or_ ebonyquill  
_

* * *

**That one night**

_Tahno met a very young fan.  
_

* * *

"You know she's totally into you, right?"

Tahno glared at her over the stacks of papers before him, but otherwise decided not to acknowledge her. His biology lab was already noisy with beeping and bubbling, and didn't need her to add her own personal monologue.

"Though I'm sure your life together will be very difficult," Korra sighed a gusty sigh, alternating between holding her chin thoughtfully in her hand and using that hand to make wide, sweeping gestures, all implying tragedy, no doubt. "But such is always the way with young love, is it not?"

"In case you hadn't noticed, intern," Tahno replied smoothly from his desk, while Korra twirled in her chair across the room. "Your report is due thirty minutes from now."

"No sweat, Professor Tight-Pants," she brushed him off, giving another twirl. "I'm almost finished."

"Yes," he intoned dryly. "But will it still be _almost _finished after you run these pressing errands for me?"

Korra's sneakers screeched over the tiled floor as she came to a halt. She very nearly tore the to-do list from his hand, eyes roving frantically over the many lines, and when her disbelieving eyes rose again to meet his smug ones, she hit him with the fiercest of glares.

"Are you kidding me? There isn't a single thing on this list that can't wait until tomorrow."

"On the contrary," he replied evenly, already making his way back to his desk. "They are of the most imperative nature."

She narrowed her eyes, crumpling the lined paper with a surprisingly strong fist, and in a flash, she'd turned back to her processor, typed a few remaining lines into her document, and submitted her report.

"That's it?" Tahno asked, aggravated, watching in frustration as her computer slowly shut down. "That's all you had left to write?"

"I told you I was almost finished," she huffed as she put on her coat. It was a dark red, he noticed, which obviously didn't suit her.

"You had thirty seconds worth of work left, and yet you rolled yourself about my lab _for nearly an hour_ while singing about the tragedies of young love?"

She smiled. "So you _were_ listening."

He sneered, raising his pen in preparation of making a valid, reasonable point about all the topics she _could_ sing about—

"Now, if you please excuse me, I have some rather important matters to attend to," she lifted her chin high in the air, and strode toward the door. "And from the looks of it, you are about to receive another visit," she smiled back at him, eyes gleaming. "Hello again, Jinora!" she called into the lobby.

Not very quietly, Tahno cursed under his breath, and began to clear out the space beneath his desk. In the midst of wondering just how likely he was to lose his chance at receiving a letter of recommendation from Professor Tenzin by fleeing his twelve-year-old daughter, Korra laughed.

"Psych," she smiled broadly, taking her lab key from the hook. "Have a wonderful evening, Professor Tight-Pants. Can't wait 'til tomorrow."

Through the muffled aluminum of the space under his desk, he heard the door close behind her. Cursing under his breath, he didn't think to mind his head as he uprighted himself in his large chair, which left him cursing again. "Stupid intern," he muttered under his breath, rubbing at the bump on his skull.

* * *

Still, before leaving the office later that night, he couldn't help but carefully glance around the lobby for the sight of a young, gray-eyed, aspiring intellectual. He half-expected the intern to be lurking in the shadows, biding her time until she could burst out with her freakish speed, and laugh in his face.

He straightened his coat with a huff, and left the lab without further incident.


	5. Korra and Tahno ran into each other

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.**  
Word Count: **677**  
Author's Notes: **_12/27/12_. On a roll! If you'd like to request one, please check out my holiday gift!fic page on my tumblr. This one is for _tasteofadeadsun_, who provides fabulous Tahnorra song reccs and drabble prompts alike.

**Gifted To: **_tasteofadeadsun  
_

* * *

**That one night**

___Korra and Tahno ran into each other in Republic City._  


* * *

"Well, what do you know," she smiled, coming up beside him in the frozen foods section. He'd been deeply contemplating the pros and cons of each style of Hot Pockets, so her sudden appearance caught him off guard. "The lab rat actually walks the streets with the rest of us mere humans."

"I believe you are confused as to what defines a street," he replied smoothly, trying to pretend that he _didn't_ have two cardboard boxes of lonely-at-home-meals in his hands; somehow, holding onto—one, never mind _two—_microwave dinners seemed to cut down the intimidation factor a bit.

"You know, I think part of me was actually convinced that you ate and slept at the office, too," Korra continued, thoroughly ignoring his jab. Her hands were stuffed into that stupid red coat and the basket hanging off her arm was filled with healthy snacks, which surprised him.

"Frequently," he slipped, and then nonchalantly looked back at the items in his hand, acting as if it were an intentional thing by deliberating between the two with unusual care.

She blinked. "You're serious?"

"Look, little girl," he bit out testily. "Why don't you try being six months away from completing _your_ doctoral program and then let's see how well _you_ manage a work-life balance."

Korra held up her hands in defense, but her lingering smile did little to placate him. "Yikes, sorry, Professor Tight-Pants. Didn't mean any offense."

And because she actually seemed rather contrite, he offered her a single nod of acceptance and returned to his internal debate—_Pepperoni Pizza or Philly Steak & Cheese?_—fully expecting her to be gone by the time he looked back up.

"Besides," she breathed a soft laugh, muttering under her breath. "I'm failing the whole work-life balance thing as it is already."

He lifted his head to consider her, but she had already taken the first few steps away from him down the aisle. Brows furrowing, Tahno did something very unusual for the second time that night—he slipped.

"How far along are you into your Master's?" he called.

After a moment, she turned back around, looking surprised that he had actually addressed her. "Still have another year after this one," she shrugged, still looking a little bewildered.

A beat passed, and then he nodded to her basket. "You seem to have the healthy diet down fairly well, at least."

"Uh, _yeah_, that's only because you haven't seen my weekend junk food stash," she laughed easily, taking another step toward him. "I can't cook a meal worth shit, so I have to rely on prepackaged goods to survive. Plus, I am developing a rather terrifying addiction to caffe mochas."

An eyebrow quirked. "As opposed to regular coffee?"

He didn't even know what the hell a caffe mocha _was_; Tahno knew he was getting old, but he didn't think he was _that _much older than her.

Was he?

"Have you ever tried one?"

"Of course not."

Her smile broadened. "Well, prepare your tastebuds, Professor Tight-Pants. There's a coffee house right around the corner."

He couldn't just get coffee with his intern, Tahno thought, covertly clutching onto the cardboard boxes in his hands. He had a very important choice to make here, and he was not to be deterred. "It's not exactly like I have the time," he replied steadily

"There's a reason why they call it _to-go_," she reminded him shrewdly. "And you would if you'd save the lengthy-decision making process for the _actual _hard stuff—Pepperoni Pizza always wins."

"I'm sorry, are you the official Hot Pocket expert?"

"Believe me," she eyed him with grave seriousness. "I _should _be."

Well.

It's not exactly like he could argue with that.

* * *

That night they ate in the lab while they worked, the microwave beeping in time with the lab equipment and machinery while two caffe mochas sat cooling on his desk.

All in all, Tahno considered it a very productive evening.


	6. Tahno and Korra were detectives

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.**  
Word Count: **852**  
Author's Notes: **_12/27/12_. Oh my god, these are so fun. If you'd like to request one, please, please, PLEASE check out my holiday gift!fic page on my tumblr.

**Gifted To: **_ahlistenalison_ (again!)_  
_

* * *

**That one night**

___Tahno and Korra were detectives._

* * *

"Shh," Korra hushed him, again. "Are you sure you didn't hear that?"

"Kid," he sighed, letting the document fall to his desk. "If you don't calm down—"

"I am not a _kid_," she assured him snappily, slapping her pen onto the computer desk across the room. Her legs were still tucked beneath her and she had all but enveloped herself inside her dark blue hoodie. "Especially if you aren't one, either."

Tahno looked at her, his face screwed up with confusion. "What do _I _have to do with any of this?"

"You may be closer to attaining your shiny doctorate, but you are _not _that much older than I am," she clarified, using her shifting weight to slowly but surely scoot her rolling computer chair closer to his desk, ever careful not to touch the ground. He eyed her with a level of incredulousness that even _he _couldn't believe.

"Right."

"Now are you going to help me find it or what?"

"_What _are you talking about?"

"The rat!" she hissed, pressing a quieting finger to her lips.

"It's not like it can _hear _you talking about—"

"Shh!"

A minute of silence passed.

"This is absolutely ridiculous," Tahno muttered, making a motion to stand—

"Shhhhh!" Korra waved frantically, latching onto his desk as she rolled her way to where he sat, before she all but shoved him back into his seat. He blinked, looking down at the hand that was still attached to his chest. "Are you _trying_ to drown out the sounds of its little scurrying feet, or are you just naturally this obnoxiously loud?

He had a few choice words for _her _general sense of volume, or lack there of, but her eyes were already locked on the farthest corner of the room—her work station. "Quick, pull up your feet," she whispered, pulling onto his armrest to bring her chair flush with his.

Tahno eyed her strangely, already exasperated beyond measure; he examined the steadfast hold her fist had over his chair with something close to resignation. At least her hand was no longer on his chest.

"You're not going to get any work done until you get over this, are you?"

"Nope," she whispered tightly, gaze never abandoning her corner.

"Fine," he muttered, short and stern through a sigh, and carefully reached over to flick off the lights.

An unfamiliar sound escaped her, and Tahno waited, utterly bemused, as she regained her bearings in the darkness and held tight to his chair. "What are you _doing_?" she hissed.

"You supposedly want to find a rat, and the best way to call one out is through a distinct lack of light," he replied impatiently.

"I thought it'd be food?"

"Well, unless you have some stashed in your backpack—"

"Actually—"

"_No_."

Minutes passed, and the only sounds throughout the room were the soft clicking and bubbling from behind the glass divider, the gentle whirring of the computer's tired tower from across the floor, and the count of their breaths strained against the quiet. The silence persisted just long enough to make Tahno uncomfortable, just enough to make him acutely aware of just how close his young intern was.

"Enough of this," he snapped, reaching over.

"Wait!"

Tahno and Korra glared at one another, blinking away the painful brightness. It occurred to him then, how endearing some people might find her, what with her inane ability to almost completely disappear inside her sweatshirt. This was roughly around the same that they both overheard a strange, soft, scratching sound coming from below.

Slowly, together, they turned their heads to look below—

Only to find a fat, fat _thing_ staring back at them, right where their feet should have been.

A single beat,

and then—

"Holy _shit!_"

"_Ahh_, oh my god, oh my god, don't kill it—"

"Are you _crazy_? Squash the motherfucker—"

"Wait, _wait, waitwaitwaitwaitwait,_ just don't do anything rash—"

"Watch it, he's right underneath—"

"_Ahhh_, Tahno, that's not a rat, that's not a rat, what the _fuck_ is it, I can do rats, I can handle rats, _but that is not a rat, that is a demon—_"

"Will you shut up, _it can hear you_—"

They froze, both breathing heavily as they stared into the space over the white floor, half-on their chairs and half-off—_half-on each others'_—and watching as the _thing _scurried off into a hole under Korra's desk. Tahno swallowed roughly, and when he turned back to his intern, she was eyeing him with a hard, questioning, expectant sort of look.

Absently, he nodded his head. "Right, then," he said, still nodding, still breathless. "I'll make a call."

Korra fell back against her chair and let out a gusty sigh.

* * *

For the remainder of the evening, they took advantage of the rarely-used wireless, and finished the rest of the night's work from the couch in the lobby.

You know.

Just to be safe.


	7. he found out she was ticklish

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.**  
Word Count: **1,128**  
Author's Notes: **_12/30/12_. Ahh! I'm running out of time! Here you are, Cheyenne! This one was incredibly fun to write. Hope you like it!

**Gifted To: **_Yuki119_ _  
_

* * *

**That one night**

_he found out she was ticklish._

* * *

It'd all started with an accident.

He _knew_ that letting her move the lobby couch into the office was a bad idea; in his defense, she'd put up a very convincing argument, but hell if he could remember it now. Anyway, she'd wanted it in the office, so now it was in the office and not in the lobby, and that was that. She'd taken it upon herself to claim it as her new work station, and since her productivity rates had actually gone _up _over the last week or so_—_and as long as her godfather wasn't anywhere directly in sight—he didn't mention much more of it, and so she didn't either.

He should have known that it would only lead to trouble.

It was another too late night for Tahno at the lab, with another too long to-do list with too many unfinished tasks, so by the time he tore himself from the computer screen and rubbed the soreness from his eyes, he had found very little out of the ordinary. They had splurged on take-out that night instead of the usual cardboard box treasures, which meant he was sated with Pad Thai and tea, and to top off the evening, he had even remembered his reading glasses from home, cheap as they were. Overall, it was a most satisfying end to his typical Friday night.

He scoffed.

_Not_.

Tahno sighed again, luxuriously allowed himself to recline back in his less-than-luxurious computer chair, let his eyelids roll shut, and wondered once more where the glory days of his undergraduate years had gone.

Halfway between one _fantastic_ memory of the victory night of his senior year championship and a superb fantasy of rewinding life by at least three years, Tahno suddenly stilled, his attention caught by a soft flutter of movement off to the side.

"Unbelievable," he whispered under his breath, eyes locked tightly onto the lobby's ex-couch.

Not only was his intern dead asleep, but she had also somehow nestled herself into the nook between two cushions—as if the vintage furniture-beast had decided to have a little midnight snack—and her head was tilted awkwardly against the stiff armrest. He inhaled sharply from where he sat, already imagining the crick that would settle itself into her muscles before the morning and, in an unusual act of gentlemanly behavior, decided to take pity on her soul.

"You were supposed to be out of here at least two hours ago," he grumbled as he walked over, ever-wary of furry creatures bustling about in the dim light.

The task of waking her seemed simple enough, but Tahno quickly learned otherwise; to call her a heavy sleeper would be a gross understatement. _Funny_, Tahno's brows furrowed, because it really wasn't funny at all. _She's so hyper, you'd think she'd be just as restless in sleep. Then again... _ He fully expected to see drool, but luckily, somehow, the upholstery was still mostly clean. Carefully, Tahno gave her a gentle shove: nothing. Brows furrowing yet even more deeply, he tried again: _nothing_. Biting his lip, Tahno patted her cheek, shook her shoulders, called her name—her real one, too—but all of it left him with: _nothing, nothing, nothing_. He was stumped; Tahno didn't want to _hurt _her, per se, but it wasn't like she was giving him many options.

Almost unthinkingly, he poked her side, the tender spot just under her ribs—

And that was also how Tahno got elbowed in the face.

The first time.

"What the _hell_, woman?"

Eyes still wide with the force of what could have arguably been the most un-Korra-like squeal of the century, Tahno and Korra regarded one another breathlessly, suspiciously, with questioning, accusatory eyes. Unfortunately, the effect from Tahno was less severe, of course, what with his hand cradling the bruise forming along his jaw.

"What the hell are you doing in my room?" she demanded; Tahno took this moment as an opportunity to squeeze his eyes against an oncoming headache. After a long, deep, useless breath, he opened them. The look on her face told him that she must have realized that she was _not_, in fact, in her own room.

Her state of disorientation, however, was not the most pressing matter on his mind.

"Are you... are you _ticklish_?" he asked her, bewildered.

Korra blinked, then paled. "Don't be stupid," she spat, disengaging herself from the couch and spinning her legs around to the floor. Her neck cracked three times, grotesquely so, but Tahno paid it little mind; he was still absorbing the weight of this discovery.

"Shit," Korra muttered under her breath, seeing the time. "Why didn't you wake me earlier?" she snipped, as she roughly pulled on one of her boots. He distantly wondered if she realized that it was on the wrong foot.

Oh, well.

"I'm sorry, do I _look_ like your mother? I realize that my genes _are_ enviable, but—"

"Shit, I am _so_ late."

"Oh, right, yes, Tahno, of course I'm sorry for nearly beheading you, my mistake, are you quite all right?"

"What?" she asked confusedly, briefly glancing down where he still sat on the floor as she pulled on her jacket. "Oh, right, sorry."

"Are all of your apologies this sincere?"

"Dude, what do you want, a formal letter?"

"That would be acceptable."

She scoffed, frantically searching for her gloves. Tahno remained on the floor, resting one forearm over a knee as his other hand massaged his jaw.

"Do you make a habit of falling asleep in strange, unfamiliar places?"

"Do you make a habit of excelling in rude awakenings?"

"Usually the objects of my awakenings respond with a little more _appreciation_."

Korra paused, taking a moment to consider that. "Gross," she said after a beat.

Tahno quirked a brow, amused in spite of himself. Her interpretation hadn't been what he'd meant to imply, but it was undeniably accurate.

"Someone's mind is in the gutter," he smirked. "Hot dream? Or better yet, a hot date?"

"Shut it, Professor Tight-Pants," she hissed, and then—to his utter astonishment—she blushed. It was rather dark in the lab, granted, but it was visible from his angle all the same.

"Better not keep him waiting any longer," he called unnecessarily, waving weakly from his spot on the floor as she grabbed her bag and hurried toward the door. "Before he thinks that you were off enjoying the evening in another man's company, or something equally ludicrous."

"Goodnight, _sir_."

"Have a wonderful evening, nameless intern!" he called sarcastically, mock-saluting as she let the door slam shut and quickly vanished from sight. He let out a scoff, but to his ears, it sounded more like a chuckle—amused, incredulous, and very, very tired.

"Can't wait 'til Monday," he muttered under his breath, to no one in particular.


	8. Korra almost hit Tahno with her car

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.**  
Word Count: **1,327**  
Author's Notes: **_12/30/12_. God, I am enjoying these way, way too much.

**Gifted To: **_roarlikethunder_ _  
_

* * *

**That one night**

_Korra almost hit Tahno with her car. _

* * *

"Shit!" Korra hissed under her breath, but the high-pitched panic in her voice garbled it into something almost unrecognizable. Her fingers were fumbling with the seatbelt clasp, wrenching it apart, but then she was scrambling out of the driver's seat, car still running, door left wide open in the vast, empty parking lot. "What the hell are you doing here on a Saturday?" she demanded, voice still fresh with panic and adrenaline.

"What am—what am _I _doing—" he practically sputtered, approaching her with deliberate, dangerous strides from the rear of her car. "What are _you_ doing here? On a _Saturday_!"

"You're not supposed to be here!" she hissed, and _oh crap, she could have killed him, she could have run him over, what the fuck—_

"It's _my _lab!" he reminded her, hair flying wildly. "And as we've already discovered, I'm _always _here! What I want to know is where the _hell_ is your driver's license?"

"You should know better than to come up behind a car so quickly!"

"You should have looked behind you before you started to move!"

"I did! The coast was clear, and then—and then you just came out of _nowhere_, like some stray cat from hell—"

"So this is _my_ fault?" he demanded, taking a step closer.

"This is no one's fault," she hissed through clenched teeth. "Nothing _happened_._"_

His face wiped blank with shock, mouth falling open with the force of his disbelief, and for a moment, Korra was almost sure she was going to hear him scream. Instead, he glared at her, hard and fuming, while he panted an indiscernible number of deep, quick breaths, which somehow turned into a long string of manic chuckles. Korra glared right back, but she'd be lying if she said that it wasn't at least a little unnerving.

"Nothing happened, you say?" he asked very slowly, seemingly coming to his senses. "And what do you say about my lingering trauma?" He regarded her carefully, letting his narrowed eyes pierce into her. "I think I smell a potential lawsuit here." Korra's nostrils flared, and a new wave of panic began swirling through her stomach.

And then she saw it.

The first traces of a very familiar smirk.

Fear gave way to fury, and Korra ignored the urge to punch.

"Oh, get over yourself, Tahno," she spat. "I didn't even _bump_ you—"

"You, nameless intern, are a menace to society. Seriously, what do you think Tenzin is going to do when—"

"We are _not _going to mention this to him," she stepped forward again automatically, glaring directly up into his eyes. If he was surprised at the proximity, he didn't show it.

"And what makes you so sure about that?" his eyes narrowed.

"You've got barely more than a few months left before your dissertation defense. You really think you're going to be able to find another intern to fill my place in time?"

"_You _just started a few weeks ago."

"And just how successful were you in finding an intern before Tenzin dropped one in your lap?"

He quirked a brow, but otherwise made no other comment.

"You think your cooperating faculty member is going to be so quick to go out of his way and find you a new one after you sue his goddaughter? In fact," she paused for dramatic emphasis. "Who's to say that he'd even allow you to continue in _his_ lab at all? Face it, Tahno: you need me more than I need you."

Tahno looked at her very carefully; Korra tried not to fidget.

"Are you seriously trying to blackmail me by claiming that your godparent is unprofessional enough to hold a grudge against me for pursuing my legal rights?"

_What legal rights? _she thought snippily, trying to ignore the feeling of his breath floating across her face. _You don't even have a scratch on you_.

"Yes," she said evenly, instead.

He didn't even blink, and luckily, neither did Korra.

She sensed, rather than saw, that Tahno bit the inside of his cheek, his thoughts carefully hidden under his blank stare. Meanwhile, Korra shifted her gaze from one eye to the next, trying not to lose focus.

"Touch_é_," he said finally, and then he tilted his head back.

Suddenly, it felt like she could breathe again. Korra released a sigh, feeling the energy being sapped from her shoulders right where she stood. It occurred to her then, that her car was still running.

"Shit," she hissed. "I am so late. _Again_."

"What were you even doing here in the first place?" he sneered, calling toward her back as she fled to the driver's seat. He followed her to the open car door, but she was too busy messing with the seatbelt again to do much more than feel annoyed.

"I forgot my phone last night," she grumbled, blindly stabbing the buckle into the clasp without success. "I came here on a blind whim that I'd get lucky and it'd still be open. I didn't expect to find _you_." She paused, dissembled parts of her seatbelt in each hand. "Where the hell did you even come from, anyway?"

Tahno offered her a blank glare, then rolled his eyes and pointed toward a foot path between two lines of unruly hedges at the edge of the parking lot, right on the other side of her car. She'd never noticed it before.

"Dinner run," he replied dryly. "Supermarket's right on the other side."

Korra blinked at him, suddenly feeling a little awkward now that the adrenaline had worn off. "Oh," she said simply.

He wasn't doing anything, and he wasn't saying anything else, but he wasn't moving out of the way of her door either, so Korra sighed and resumed her attempts at buckling herself in.

"What are you, four?" he looked on, exasperated.

"It's an old car, thank you," she defended, shooting him another evil glare. "It just—needs—some oil—or—_something_—"

"Oh, for the love of—enough of this," he sighed, reaching down to tear the pieces from her hands. "This is worse than trying to watch you compile a report."

"_Hey_, I—"

—_am buckled in. _

She blinked down at her seatbelt, then back up at Tahno, speechless.

He offered her an ironic sneer. "Safety first."

She narrowed her eyes, trying to keep her cool, and _do __not__ punch, Korra, do not, do not, do __not__—_

"Gee, thanks," she replied just as dryly, watching intently as he stepped back and out of the way of her door. She slammed it shut with a fiercely muttered, "Jerk."

"I heard that," he called through the plexiglass. She tried not to see his smirk.

She glanced back through her rear window as she pulled the car into reverse, watching especially carefully this time for any stray cats or humans from hell, and swiftly pulled the car into position in the wide open lot. In her rearview mirror, as she waited for an opening to pull out into the street, she could see him making his way into the building—_strutting, striding, swaggering, ugh_—up the short flight of stone steps from close behind, grocery bag slung over his arm.

While wondering just exactly how much gas she'd wasted during that little adventure, she happened to catch sight of the small cardboard box in his plastic bag—Hot Pockets, again.

She squinted hard, straining her vision against the growing twilight, and missing at least two separate opportunities to enter her lane. Did she see...? Was that...

_Pepperoni Pizza?_

Suddenly, his body turned, and his head swiveled back to look at her idle car.

With a short gasp, she dropped her gaze to the road and quickly drove off, heart pounding in her chest.

* * *

Please review! :)


	9. when Tahno ran into Asami

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed. Nor do I own Disney.**  
Word Count: **2,497**  
Author's Notes: **_12/31/12_. How the fuck did this get so long.

**Gifted To: **_ahlistenalison_ (She just has so many good prompts!) _  
_

* * *

**That one night**

_Tahno ran into Asami during a Makorra date._

* * *

When Mako showed up on her small doorstep promptly at 7pm, and told her that Bolin unfortunately wasn't going to be able to make it, she figured that things might finally be looking up.

No offense to Bolin or anything, of course.

It's just that _this_ was the opportunity she'd spent ages looking for. She was finally, _finally _going to have a good excuse to take advantage of some alone time with Mako.

And of course—

She was very, very wrong.

* * *

"Hey, kid," he smirked, sauntering over to her booth. "Fancy seeing you here."

So great was her shock, Korra nearly knocked over her glass of water. It was a good thing that Mako had run off to the bathroom or that would have been even _more _embarrassing.

_Dammit,_ she cursed. _Can't I lose this guy for one, single day?_

"I thought I already told you not to call me that," she crossed her arms, trying to will him away with her glare; she probably only had another minute or two before Mako got back.

"Did you now? Well, that's funny. Must be slipping in my old age. Or perhaps I could be suffering from sort of delayed shock or something. Speaking of—run over anybody else lately?"

"You're not going to be able to use that one forever, you know."

His smirk grew wider. "I'll use it for as long as it works."

Korra's brow slanted suspiciously, but the slight upward tilt to her lips betrayed her. "You're out of the cave... _and _I see no microwave dinner in sight. What are you up to?"

"Just the usual debauchery, I suppose," he shrugged as Korra made a face. "And what about you, hmm?" He took a step closer, leaning against the wall behind the seat opposite her. "Look at you, out at a bar on a Sunday night, you wild child. It's almost like you're just fresh out of college. Oh, wait: you are."

"What's _your _excuse?"

"Met with our department head for drinks about funding," he nodded toward the bar. "Experience has taught me that alcohol usually helps tip the scales in our favor, so-to-speak. Lucky for us, I was met with great success."

"So you've finished the meeting, then?"

"Trying to get rid of me so soon?"

"If only I knew how."

"Really? You almost finished the job yesterday."

"Look, Professor Tight-Pants," she snapped, sneering up at him. "Don't you have data to compile or something now? Bacteria cultures to lick?"

"That was dessert," he whispered, with mock relish.

"What was the main course?" she asked, lips twitching. "Frog legs? Worms? Some poor pig's fetus?"

"Wouldn't you like to know. You think I'm going to tell you what goodies I keep in my snack jar? Please, nameless intern, you have yet to earn the honor."

"I'm sure it's one that I'll be working toward with great anticipation."

"As you should; it comes with a trophy."

"As opposed to a medal?" Korra asked, temporarily straying from the game in her bewilderment. "Or a plaque?"

"Old school, remember?"

"Then why not a ribbon or something?" she suggested, genuinely puzzled. "Of all things, why a _trophy_—"

"_Ahh_, speaking of trophies, where _is_ this hot date of yours?" An eyebrow quirked knowingly, making Korra's slant downwards, dangerously.

"Would you like a detailed report of his whereabouts?" she asked. "Perhaps a map or a diagram, too?"

"Don't bother," he smiled. "If it's anything like the ones you usually give me, I probably won't be able to read it anyway."

And with that, he turned, saluted, and sauntered away.

_Good riddance_, Korra thought, biting down her smile.

* * *

_So._

"So," she tried again, with enough fake cheer to strangle an elf. "Anything new?"

Ugh.

Could this get any worse?

And lo and behold—

Her cellphone vibrated.

"Ahh, _crap_," Korra muttered under her breath, eyes locked on her phone. When she peered up, Mako looked concerned. _Oh, __now__, you show expression? _

"What is it?" he asked.

Korra glanced up again, then sighed back at the screen. "I'm sorry, it's just—I think I'm going to have to skip out early."

Mako blinked. "Oh. Oh, well—okay. I mean, is everything okay?"

"Yeah, it's just Asami," Korra sighed a deep, long sigh. "She and that she guy she was seeing—Iroh or whoever—were eating at the restaurant down the road, and they got into a fight. Do you mind if we give her a ride home?"

_Ugh, _she thought. _I told her it was a bad idea to let him drive. She has a car. She has a nice car. I don't care if it's supposed to be more romantic or chivalrous or—_

"Asami? Asami, your roommate, Asami?"

"Uhh, yeah," Korra confirmed, more than a little perplexed by his sudden fumbling. "That'd be the one."

"Well, is she all right?" he asked quickly. "Does she need anything else?"

"Um," Korra said. "I don't... think so."

"Well, maybe we should start walking now—you know, to meet up with her halfway."

Korra blinked at him. "But we haven't paid yet."

Mako sat back down, coat still halfway on. "Oh," he said blankly, before his shoulders slumped. "Right."

Korra's head tilted ever-so-slightly to the right.

_Crap_.

* * *

"So how long has she been dating that guy?"

Korra sighed. Again. "I don't know. A couple of weeks, maybe?"

"Well, was she really into him? I mean, were they serious?"

"Dude. I said it was a couple of _weeks_."

"Right. Yeah, sorry."

Unbelievable. She finally had Mako all to herself for the night, and he was arguably being the most talkative she'd _ever _seen him, but none of it mattered because all he wanted to talk about was her _roommate_?

"Figures," she muttered into her straw. Mako didn't hear.

"So have you known her long?" he asked, practically shaking the table with his nervous jiggling. She stared pointedly at his fingers tapping on the wood. "Sorry," he muttered, before hiding them under the table.

"Since freshmen year." She placed her chin in one hand, stirring the melting ice cubes in her glass with the other. A quick glance at her watch told her that either Asami was _crawling_ there, or she'd gotten kidnapped.

Korra nearly snorted. Who was she kidding?

Asami could probably kill a guy with two fingers, if she wanted to. She had the belt somewhere in her closet to show for it.

"Are you guys pretty close?"

Korra shrugged. "As far as roommates go, I guess."

That wasn't true. Korra and Asami _were _close; close enough for Korra to tell Asami not to let her boyfriend drive her when it seemed _obvious _that they were about to break up; close enough for Asami to respectfully disagree and then do it anyway; close enough that they both knew Korra was going to go home and _ream her out all night, _and then immediately follow up with copious amounts of ice cream and _The Lion King. _They shared a ton and they knew their limits. Asami always knew when to tell Korra to go for a run to let off some steam and Korra always knew when to say, _damn, girl, go eat a granola bar or something already, you're cranky as hell._

Or something along those lines, anyway.

The point was that they had a system, and it was a good one; they _were_ close.

They just weren't close enough for Korra to admit that she'd had the biggest crush on Mako for the past six months.

Somewhere in between recalling everything she'd ever read about the Black Widow femme fatale and mentally picturing Asami in a black catsuit, Mako suddenly pounded the table, just enough to make her ice cubes rattle.

"Ugh," Mako groaned quietly, lip curling in disgust. "She's here."

Korra's head lifted in surprise.

Well, _that _was an unexpected reaction.

"I'm sorry?"

"Asami's here," he repeated, eyes narrowing with anger. "And some creep is all over her."

"What?" she whipped around, immediately prepared to kick some ass—_black belt be damned, if there was a creeper hitting on Asami, then he didn't know what_—

_Oh_.

She faced the bar, vaguely recognizing that Mako was quickly trying to put on his coat behind her, and saw what he meant.

_Well, that was fast, _she thought.

Though Mako actually had it a little backwards.

She couldn't see Tahno's face—_stupid, frickin' hair, what the hell is he still doing here?_—but Asami was in clear sight. _His_ posture was cocky, arrogant as always, engaged but aloof. It was so characteristically Tahno that Korra nearly rolled her eyes. Her roommate on the other hand... She was staring into his eyes, smiling the trademark Asami smile—

And she obviously liked what she saw.

Korra's eyes narrowed.

"_What_?"

Korra could see the way they were both leaning toward one another, just slightly, when there was really no reason to in the low din of the small bar. What's worse was the way she kept tossing her hair back as she laughed—charming and light and Asami—and kept briefly touching his arm.

_Asami, have you lost your mind?_

And then she noticed that Mako was already halfway there.

"You have got to be _frickin' _kidding me," she hissed, tossing a few dollars worth of tip on the table. Her jacket snagged on the coat hook as she hurried to catch up.

"Korra!" Asami smiled brightly as she saw her approach. "There you are!"

Korra quirked a brow. _Oh, really? Because you were searching? _

"Hey," she smiled cheekily, as Asami gave her a sheepish, apologetic grin. "We already paid, so we're good to go."

"I'm Mako," he said immediately, offering a hand to shake. Asami blinked, surprised at the sudden movement, but then sweetly returned the gesture.

"Nice to meet you, Mako," Asami greeted warmly. "I've heard a lot about you and Bolin. I'm Asami and—oh! Where are my manners? You guys, this is—"

"Tahno," she finished for her, voice tight. In her trying not to scream, she unconsciously crossed her arms.

"Korra," he said smoothly, offering her a stiff nod before taking a sip of his drink. That was probably stiff too, she bet.

"You... know each other?" Asami glanced back and forth between the two of them. Mako seemed equally surprised. Not that Korra was paying attention to him, or anything.

Korra and Tahno looked at one another.

"We do," they replied in unison; her voice was dry, his was not.

"I have the pleasure of working with Korra at the university," Tahno swirled the liquid in his glass, offering said intern a tight smile.

"Oh, really?" Asami turned a curious, meaningful glance toward Korra, who bit her lip to keep from... from... well, from doing _something_. "I forgot you had that part-time job, Korra!" She turned back to Tahno with glowing eyes, like she was about to share some deep, juicy secret. "Korra and I are roommates, you know."

The look he gave her made her skin crawl. "You don't say?" he said slowly, clearly enjoying watching her squirm. "Splendid," he turned to Asami, making Korra's grip on her arms tighten almost painfully. "I'm afraid she hasn't had much of a chance to mention you while at the lab."

"Speaking of," Korra cut in. "How _did_ that department meeting go? I certainly hope we're not looking for new _partners _anytime soon."

"You know how these things are," he smirked, eyeing her narrowly. "When an opportunity arises, I just can't help myself."

"Well," Korra began frigidly. "How _about,_ instead of just driving straight into a decision without thinking of the _consequences_, we first stop to consider all of the parties involved and how it might affect our _habitat _sources."

"You know, funny story about _driving_, actually," Tahno smiled more widely, looking back and forth between the two; Mako was ignored completely. "You wouldn't _believe_ what happened yesterday when—"

"O-_kay_, and that's enough of that," Korra interrupted quickly, grabbing Asami's wrist and all but pulling her from the stool. "C'mon, lady, we're outta here."

"Oh!" Asami exclaimed, nearly tripping on her heels as she left the stool. _Aaaaaaaand_ _great_, Korra thought. _How lucky she was that Mako was right there, ready to lend her a hand. Fuck my life_. "Oh! All right," Asami repeated, still a little shell-shocked. She glanced over her shoulder at Tahno, much to Korra's dismay, and sent him her worst, most dangerous, disarming smile. "Call me."

"Oh, _please,_" Korra grumbled, still dragging Asami along until they were out on the street. It was only after a pointed glare from Korra—and a questioning glance from Asami—that Mako let go of her, too.

As soon as they were in the parking lot, Asami rounded on her.

"What _gives_?" Asami laughed, lightheartedly punching Korra's shoulder—even though there was nothing _light _about it. "You have a total hottie for a supervisor and you didn't even tell me?"

"_What_?" Korra and Mako both exclaimed.

"_That_ guy?" Mako cringed.

"Uh, seriously, Asami," Korra scoffed, opting to take the back seat with her instead of sitting up front with Mako. _Let him sit alone for all I care_, she thought, and then, _Ugh, except I totally do care, this is so messed up._

"Seriously, what?" she laughed, biting her lip as she buckled her seat. "Thanks for the ride, Mako," she thanked Mako sincerely. Before he had much of a chance to respond, however, she'd already turned back to Korra. "How old is he? He looks a little older."

"I don't even know," Korra sighed, melting into her seat. "He's really pretentious about it though."

"Well, he's finishing his _doctorate_, isn't he?"

"Asami!"

"What?"

"He is a _sleaze_!"

"_I _think it's charming," Asami argued, playfully crossing her arms. "And mysterious."

"You were just with Iroh less than an hour ago!" Korra exclaimed, half-desperate. Okay. Maybe a little more than half.

"And _you _said it yourself earlier," Asami reminded her with another nudge. "We were going to break up sooner or later, and look—you were right! It happened sooner."

"But—"

"Besides," Asami's smile turned positively feline. "He seems like the bad boy type, and I could get used to that."

Up front, Korra could see Mako scowling in the rearview mirror.

* * *

Needless to say, she _really_ wasn't looking forward to Monday.

* * *

**End Note: **It's like the universe is conspiring to make me slip in some Tahsami. Between **kavos-plz**'s gifs and **jesterry**'s fanart, there's really no hope of avoiding it. Also, the follow chapters are _not _going to be this long; this holiday project was supposed to be an exercise in concision! 100-500 words, dammit.

Please, please review!


	10. Tahno disses Mako

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed. Nor do I own Disney.**  
Word Count: **364**  
Author's Notes: **_12/31/12_. Much better.

**Gifted To: **_anonymous_  
(Next time, please leave your name!)_  
_

* * *

**That one night**

_Tahno disses Mako._

* * *

"You know your boyfriend's a real creep, right?"

Korra let her head fall to the desk with a thud. It was already bad enough that she'd resolved to spend a little less time on the couch thanks to Friday's mishap, but now she had to listen to _Professsor Tight-Pants _go on all afternoon with judgments of her friends, too? She'd already spent half the night listening to Asami babble on about—what else?—_his tight pants_; the amount of reaming on her end was considerably less than what Korra had predicted. Instead, _she_ suffered the brunt of it.

The amount of ice cream was still the same, though.

"I'm sorry, are you of all people trying to point out someone else's supposed creepiness?" she huffed. The next part slipped out without her consent. "And he's not my boyfriend."

Tahno blinked, glancing up from his computer for the first time. Korra crossed her arms awkwardly and tried not to swivel.

"He's not?" he asked, surprised.

Korra tried not to slump. "No," she said decidedly. "He's not."

A beat.

"Huh," he said simply, with a slight, thoughtful nod. And then he turned back to his computer.

_That's it?_

"Right," Korra said, even more sternly than usual, simply because she didn't know what else to say. _Better get this over with. _"And listen, buck-o: my roommate is _off _limits."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me," she repeated. "Off. Limits. None of that crap you tried to pull last night."

"And, may I ask, just whose job is it here to supervise _whom_?"

"Dude, you may be my supervisor, but you're not the boss of me."

"And are you the boss of your roommate?" he smirked.

She scowled.

"Cool your jets, little girl," Tahno chuckled. "What do you care what I do, anyway?"

"I don't," she sniped. "Provided that it doesn't affect _my _living situation."

"I have an apartment too, you know," he offered meaningfully.

Korra let that sink in.

"Ew."

He only laughed harder.

"So it's settled, then."

* * *

But in truth, Korra didn't think it settled anything.


	11. Korra wishes she'd stuck with wine

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed. Nor do I own Disney.**  
Word Count: **3,684**  
Author's Notes: **_1/5/13_. Happy New Year! ;) Changing the rating to M for language. I tend to have these characters swear a lot, more so than those in any other fandom. :P

**(Bonus!)**  
_  
_

* * *

**That one night**

_Korra wishes she'd stuck with wine._

* * *

"Alone again?"

Tahno must have jumped at least two inches out of his seat, and Korra would be lying if she said she weren't at least a little proud of that fact.

Korra had found him sitting by the large, dark window in the southernmost parlor, occupying a whole ottoman to himself, looking out into the snowy park scene below, and barely paying attention to anyone around him. She had half a mind to sneak up on him from behind, but she was also pretty certain that Tenzin might not appreciate the humor in such a stunt at his New Year's Eve dinner party. And besides, she was getting too old for those kinds of pranks, anyway.

Supposedly.

Instead, she snuck a glance at the park view from another window down the hall, just to see if there was anything out there worth looking at; the Commons was always aflutter this time of year, and not even the near freezing temperatures could keep the tourists and New Year's partiers at bay, but for the most part, she couldn't see anything that would hold his interest so strongly. For a while, Korra merely watched him watch the world outside; meanwhile, dinner guests came and went, stopping to say hello to him and dabble in other such small talk, but none ever lingered for more than a minute or two. And Tahno seemed to prefer it that way.

_Too bad_, Korra thought with a smirk, finally making her approach.

"I should have known," said Tahno, once he had regained his bearings. His voice was just as smooth as ever, even despite the damage control he was currently attempting for his disheveled hair. _When's the last time you got a hair cut, buddy? Yeesh. _

"How was your vacation?" she asked instead, all but plopping down and scooting him over, taking what little space she could on the ottoman next to him.

He glanced down, his lips and brows quirking in typical Tahno fashion as she made herself at home, but aside from his irritating grin, he made no mention of their proximity. _Good, _Korra thought quickly, and then—just for a moment—she irrationally feared she'd actually said it aloud; the voice in her head had sounded so much louder than usual.

"Well, that answer could go two ways," he began, looking anywhere but at her; the window, his drink, random party guests, literally anywhere. If Korra didn't know any better, she'd assume that he was trying to hint her away into leaving; luckily, Korra knew that if Tahno wanted her gone, he would have had no qualms about saying so... not that she would have listened, anyway.

But he probably already knew that, too.

"As vacation is not actually over, I could either assume that, one, you are misinformed about the precise dates of our intersession period, in which case I recommend purchasing a planner from the campus bookstore, or two, I could assume that you're merely being ironic because, honestly, _what_ vacation could you possibly be suggesting I might have had?"

"Nice to see that time hasn't altered your alluring personality," she quipped, taking a sip from her own drink. She honestly would have been happier with a beer or a glass of wine, but Ikki had begged and begged behind her mother's back for Korra to take the colorful one, so here she was with something sparkly and fruity._ Just my luck._ "But seriously," her face scrunched together. "Didn't you already finish—"

"The class from hell?" Tahno scoffed, taking a sip. He opened his mouth to say something, but then, seemingly thinking better of it, he took yet another drink. He glared down into the glass, cooling the burn in his throat with the air of the room. He settled with, "That kind of stress never really dies."

"Yeah, but it's _over_, isn't it?"

"Yes, but even so, that hardly compares to what's _coming_, does it?" He took _another_ drink. "Compared to the next couple of months, last semester is going to end up looking like a piece of cake."

"It could end up having been a really shitty piece of cake," Korra shrugged, hiding her smile in the rim of her glass while Tahno looked on, dryly. _At least it got him to look at me._

"Is that meant to be reassuring?"

"I hope not."

"You realize that the success rate of these two semesters is partly _your_ responsibility now too, right?"

"Well, I don't really bake, _so_."

"Well," Tahno looked deeply into his drink, again. The ice cubes floated innocently in the clear liquid, but Korra could smell the strength of it from where she sat beside him. "Can't say I'm surprised, considering what I've seen you demolish with a Bunsen burner. But in any case, might as well turn in my hopes of getting a diploma now before anything burns down."

"_Or_ we could shove that shitty cake of a semester into the dumpster and make a really kick-ass pie."

Tahno's head turned slowly. His narrowed gaze trailed across the space leading to her eyes with measured breaths, like he was almost afraid of what he might find when he finally faced her. Korra kept her focus straight ahead, pretending to watch a laughing couple in the next room under the hanging lights, nonchalant-like, when all of a sudden Tahno carefully leaned closer and inhaled deeply. Korra blinked twice, trying not to fidget, even when it became clear that he wasn't about to pull away.

"Young intern," he began in a low voice. "Has someone put something in your drink? Because you are reaching a whole new level of crazy." He leaned back a fraction. "Didn't anyone ever tell you to use extended metaphors responsibly?"

"I must have missed that lesson in culinary school."

"You are ridiculous," he said, but he was already fighting back a smile.

"_You _are ridiculous," she countered, leaning the teensiest bit away so she could fully appreciate her victory. "Pie _always_ trumps cake."

"And as always, my dear, young intern, you have no idea what you're talking about."

"Um. Dude," Korra shifted, angling her body to better face his. Her knee accidentally brushed his, but she ignored it; there were far more important matters at hand. "_Pie_."

"What is it with you and your nonconformity for sweets?" he asked. "Nobody believes in the virtue of straight, black coffee anymore. It's all lattes and frapp-a-whats-its and—"

"Caffe mochas, extra hot, no whipped cream," she smiled, raising her glass in a toast for one.

"That's it, I'm cutting you off," he gently took hold of her glass, but her reflexes were just as quick; she clutched the fingers that held her drink hostage, daring them to even _try _wriggling away.

"From my drink?" she leaned closer, staring him down. "Or pie? Or extended metaphors?"

"All of it. And your caffe whats-its, too."

"Don't pretend like you don't know how to say it," Korra smirked.

"I can't live knowing that _caffe mochas _are all you've been exposed to," he told her gravely, clutching her glass more tightly. She could feel his fingertips flex over hers. "At least let me show you that there is more to the world of caffeinated drinks than just cheap, chocolate, coffee knock-offs."

"How long have you been practicing that tongue-twister for? I hope you didn't hurt yourself."

"Don't you worry about my tongue; it can handle plenty more than that."

"Ugh, spare me the details," Korra leaned back, disengaging her hand and her glass from his hold. He let her go without a fight. "And you best lower your voice, unless you want your little love bird's father to hear you."

"I thought we were done with that game!" he suddenly hissed, sending panicked glances every which way.

"Um," she said blankly, watching on in confusion. "Not that I was aware of?" _Unless Asami doesn't realize...? _

"_Not that you were_—all right, damn, woman, you're really going to make me say it? Fine, then: I swear to god, if you mention that foolish school girl crush one more time, to _anyone_, inside the department or out—"

"Oh," Korra paused. "I wan't talking about _her_."

He faltered. "What?"

Korra leaned in more closely, and Tahno, upon seeing the serious look in his intern's eyes for once, cautiously leaned forward, lending her his ear. "I was talking about _Asami_, actually," Korra whispered. "Her father is the man standing on the far side of the room, by the mirror with all the candles."

Tahno's eyes carefully glanced over. "Yikes," he murmured, cracking a smirk. Korra had to lick her lips to keep from smiling, too. "Captain of Industry or Robber Baron?"

"A little of both," Korra whispered back. "But either way, he's not the kind of guy you want to advertise your tongue twisting to, especially when it's being done with his only daughter."

"Fair enough," he allowed himself another drink. "Think his reaction would be more favorable if I clarified our non-relationship status? It is, after all, only a little twisting on the side."

"I think if you were to also drop a few hints about your commitment to the public transportation system or mention your outstanding six-figure student loan debt, he might even be willing to sign you into the family business."

"As long as you'd be more than willing to put in a good word for me."

"Believe me, it would take a lot more than just typical tongue twisting to make _you_ sound good."

Tahno's smile slowly spread.

After a few moments, Korra took a sip of her drink, trying to lessen the sudden surge of awkwardness while she vaguely wondered why he hadn't volleyed back another response. It was only when she was about to shell out another play—_What, cat got your tongue?—_that she realized—_shit, fucking tongue, tongue twisting—fuck, that wasn't what I meant at all! _Korra cleared her throat, quickly looking back down into her drink. If he noticed her slight blush, then for once he was being a gentleman and choosing not to mention it. Ha. _Right._ Maybe he just chalked it up to her being a lightweight.

Ha.

_Right_.

"Seriously though. You're really not dating?"

_Ahhhhh, fuck my life, that is __so__ not the direction I wanted to take this conversation either! Shut up, Korra, just shut up, shut up, shut up up up up—_

"It's not what I'd call dating," he said simply, with a casual, careless shrug. Something about that shrug sobered Korra a bit; she wondered what he meant by that.

"But you're still seeing one another," Korra clarified, eyes narrowing. "So what is she to you?"

"What's it to you?"

"She's my roommate," Korra responded immediately, and with heart. _Asami's a big girl, but she needs somebody to watch out for her, and for the last four and a half years, that has been me. _And it was true.

Mostly.

"So what, then?" she asked, trying to hide her curiosity behind her glass. "Friend with benefits? Booty call? Lab rat?"

"Relax," he rolled his eyes. "If you're still griping about where we'll end up, all you need to know is that no one's going to be invading your apartment anytime soon. Your _habitat _is safe for now."

"Are you always this casual with your relationships?" she asked, with such blank, plain curiosity that it unnerved even her.

"_Rela_—whoah, slow down, kid. You might not have caught this over the last few months, what with the glimpses of the positively enthralling life I lead, but I don't exactly _do _relationships. Doctorate students in general barely _do_ anything other than their doctorates."

"Really?" Korra muttered slyly. "Because that's not how you made it sound before."

"And _you_ seem to have this habit of twisting the words on my tongue."

They stared at one another for a while then, sizing each other up from where they sat—_too closely_—on the ottoman in the corner of the room near the window. The distant noise of surrounding chatter suddenly seemed so much farther away, and the glass suddenly felt heavy in Korra's hands, big and bulky and fragile. _Were the lights always this dim?_ she wondered, and again, _Where did all the sound go?_

Releasing a small huff of laughter, Korra eased herself forward and leaned both forearms over her knees. "I bet I could picture what you were like in college," she said slowly, smirking up at him; for some reason, she didn't think she could look him straight in the eyes anymore.

"Is that so?" he drawled, and a few moments later, all of her work became for naught; he leaned forward to rest his elbows over his thighs, and suddenly they were eye-to-eye, again. She kept her gaze on her drink.

"You paint it pretty clearly," she shrugged. "I mean, you're a twenty-something who sometimes talks like he's seventy and acts like he's seventeen. You've got a penchant for recalling the glory days of yesteryear, and you've got a bit of a taste for the theatrics... I bet you were some big shot or, at least, you thought you were. Probably an athlete? Though you may not look the part anymore."

"I object," he interrupted, though truly he didn't sound all that offended. "I don't know how you hope to make that sort of judgment when you have never seen the equipment_. _I hope you've come prepared with evidence to support your claim._**"**_

"Seriously?" Korra blinked, trying to wrap her head around the connection between _Tahno _and _physique_ and _equipment, _or rather—_not_ to. "Out of all the things I just mentioned, that'swhat you're focusing on? My critique of your physique?"

"Your _unfounded_ critique; you have yet to see my body."

"All I was referring to was your reading glasses!" she exclaimed, ignoring the breathy gasps of incredulous laughter that slipped out just a little too loudly. She clapped her free hand over her mouth to stifle the sound, and kept it there, just in case her throat—_her mouth, her inhibitions_—had any other funny ideas.

"Are you implying that jocks cannot own a pair of reading glasses?" he leaned closer, nudging his shoulder into hers. "My, my, what a shallow world we live in."

"And how often did you actually wear them in college?" she challenged.

"That is beside the point."

"Oh, and don't forget about your computer hunch. That is hardly becoming of a star athlete."

"I do not _hunch."_

"You're hunching now!"

"So are you!"

"Look, you may not _think_ you usually do, but you don't see the way you curl yourself around that computer screen for five hours a day every day," she laughed, and then took a respectable swallow of bright pink liquid, feeling that perhaps she should really just stop talking; she already felt like she might have given away just a little too much.

"How did this turn into a Tahno roast?" he asked confusedly, apparently oblivious to Korra's internal discomfiture. "We haven't spent nearly as much time dissecting your flaws. How about I have a go?"

"A go with what?"

"Picturing what you were like in college," he smirked, nudging her again. She glared at him from the side. _Buddy, if you want to keep that shoulder... _

"What, no cheap comment about wanting verification first? No weak joke about my really being a runaway undergrad in disguise or needing to see my diploma for confirmation?"

"No, though now that you mention it, I will make a note of speaking with the Registrar Office before returning to the lab on Tuesday," he smiled easily, making Korra want to punch him in the mouth more than ever.

"All right," she said, tongue-in-cheek. "Have at it. Tell me: what was I like in the wild days of my youth?"

The look she gave him then.

Well—

It was almost a relief when he turned away, tilting his head to see what all the sudden commotion was in the other room. She nearly choked on an ice cube trying to swallow away the look that she'd seen in his eyes; she could only imagine what he must have seen in hers.

Luckily, Korra had regained her composure and had managed a steady stare of solid disinterest into her nearly empty glass by the time he turned back around. Still, things were getting far too dangerous for her tastes.

Korra could sense his eyes on the side of her face, so much that she could practically feel his eyes narrowing as he considered her. "They're about to start the countdown," he offered.

"Already?" she breathed, still feeling a little displaced. The disinterested facade wavered.

"Almost," he turned to her, lips quirking. "You know how time flies."

"You're lucky it's a holiday, or else I'd be all too likely to give into temptation and slug you where you sit," she warned, before his shoulder nudged hers and spilled a taste of her drink over her lips. She may have laughed a little, without realizing it. "Watch it!" she hissed through her clenched—_smiling_—teeth, nudging him back.

"_You_ watch it."

"Oh, whatever," she rammed him again, clutching her glass with both hands for safety's sake. "The ball is about drop, so just watch that instead." She nodded to the main room down the long, wide hallway, tucked around the corner, where most of the party guests had gathered for the countdown. "It's about to start. You wanna go?"

Korra was already poised to leave and halfway from her seat when Tahno shook his head, glancing down at his nearly empty drink. "I'll pass."

She paused. "Oh, come on, not that again. You can't avoid the mingling forever." When he made to motion of changing his mind, Korra's brows drew together. "What were you planning to do? Watch the shit-show on the Commons? You could at least watch the fireworks over the harbor, but that's on the other side of the house."

"I chose this specific spot for a reason, you know," he smoothly replied. "Visible enough to lure in a passing chatterbox, but secluded enough to be forgotten after anyone's second glass of wine. I have such a clear view of the party guests that you might as well have given me a two-way mirror. I have a perfect view of the park shenanigans, where I can watch the tourists shy away from the crazy-ass college kids wearing too high heels and the too-short mini skirts in below freezing weather, all from the comfort of my very own footstool."

"You are ridiculous."

"_You _are ridiculous," he quipped immediately. "Especially if you think you're taking one step away from what is bound to be the greatest location in all the world to welcome the new year."

She considered him.

"Well," she said flatly, plopping back down. "Happy New Year to us, I guess."

"That's the spirit."

"When I'm looking back on this night fifty years from now and can't remember a thing, I'll have you to thank for—"

"Hey," he nudged her again, more gently this time.

"What?" she sighed, letting her head roll back with exasperation.

"Kiss me."

Her mouth ran dry.

"...what?"

"It's New Year's," he gave a little shrug. "It's bad luck if you don't."

Korra blinked, feeling her heart begin to thump loudly in her chest, willing away this sudden awareness of her mouth. And his.

"What about your non-relationship with my roommate?" she asked pointedly, refusing to lick her lips.

"What about it?"

She eyed him with mock criticalness, if only to distract him from the way her fingers had started to shake. _Stupid sugary drink. I should have known better than to get anything other than wine tonight. _

"What about our working relationship at the lab?"

"What about it?" he asked again, but his eyes took on a devious gleam. The smirk only grew wider.

Korra considered him carefully, feeling the rising energy of the apartment—the city, maybe the whole eastern coast—thrum through her veins. Slowly, she felt her smirkinch wider, too.

"I didn't take you for a superstitious kind of guy."

"I don't care how you take me, just as long as you do."

She rammed her shoulder into his, hard, but that's all it took for the tension to break. _Fifteen, fourteen. _They were still laughing under their breath as the numbers rang through the house, through the streets, and they could begin to feel the whole building, brick and mortar and all, tremble with the force of the New Year ringing in. _Eleven, ten_. Korra shoved him again and nearly spilled the last of her drink, so she took a sip—_to cut down on damage control, of course_. He even took one of hers too, just to help her along.

_Nine, eight—_

"You're not going to try to hit me again, are you?" he breathed and _god, when did he get so close? _Against her will, Korra felt her lips being pulled into a smile. _Seven, six._

_Fuck it._

"You're safe for now, I guess," she whispered, feeling the world closing in, and—_what is breathing? _"I just wouldn't linger in any parking lots... if I were you."

_Four, three—_

"No promises," he whispered back, smiling. She could feel it.

_Two—_


	12. they had ice cream for dinner

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.  
**Word Count: **485  
**Author's Notes: **_1/5/13. _

**Gifted To: **_anonymous_  
(Again, please leave your usernames, guys!)

* * *

**That one night**

_they had ice cream for dinner. _

* * *

Korra honestly wasn't sure what she'd been expecting to happen when they returned to the lab two days later, so it's not like she could really say she was disappointed.

Routines resumed and life at the office returned to normal, if not a little more harried and hurried than it'd been during the fall. The culmination of Tahno's program was steadily approaching, which meant that it was time for serious business, in more ways than one; over the next week or so, Tahno sometimes almost even forgot to maintain his snark.

Almost.

It became a day-in and day-out grind of test tubes and microscopes, in which Korra did the work she was assigned and mostly—_occasionally_—stayed out of Tahno's way. The days never felt too long, and the hours at the lab were spent in generally comfortable silence, punctuated by somewhat-friendly snipes, the continuation of the caffe mocha vs. coffee wars, regular take-out, and the occasional vat or two of ice cream.

Trips to the supermarkets were the most dangerous of all battles, because like most other things related to food, their tastes in ice cream differed on all fronts; they fought about all the flavors in the world: Triple Caramel Chunk vs. Butterscotch Swirl, Bubblegum vs. Mint Chocolate Chip, Strawberry vs. Raspberry—and they weren't above the age-old battle of Vanilla vs. Chocolate—which meant that their wallets suffered the worst casualties.

While waiting for data to collect or during eye-breaks from their retina-burning computer screens, he would sit at his desk while she would claim the couch or spin in her chair, and they would argue about whose flavor was better, and even though nobody's mind ever changed, in the end everybody won—sort of—because they always ate lots and lots of ice cream.

Although.

Maybe if she _had _made any sort of assumption about what to expect for when she first walked in, then maybe she would have imagined a look or a glance, a '_go ahead, mention it, I dare you'_ sort of stare that she just _knew_ Tahno would be able to pull off all too well.

But he barely spared her a second glance.

It didn't take Korra long to notice that they didn't often mention Asami, and that he rarely brought up the incident with the car anymore, both of which surprised her. But then again, she avoided teasing him about Jinora now, too, so Korra admitted that maybe they had entered some sort of wordless truce... Or perhaps they had merely tired of the same old jokes. Either way, despite the switches in war material, the strategies were still the same; neither of them seemed any different, and nothing about their time at the lab had changed.

Again, it wasn't like Korra was really expecting it to.

* * *

Neither of them ever mentioned forgettable, laughable, meaningless things like New Year's celebration kisses, and that told Korra all she needed to know.


	13. Asami talked dirty

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed. Nor do I own Disney.**  
Word Count: **1,424**  
Author's Notes: **_1/7/13_. Hoping to have this done by the weekend! If you have additional prompts or requests, you better get them in now. I think I'm going to make an official cut-off deadline for Friday.

**Gifted To: **_anonymous_  
(Again, please leave your usernames, guys!)_  
_

* * *

**That one night**

_Asami talked dirty.  
_

* * *

"So I know you don't like it when we talk about your supervisor."

"_Asami_."

"But Korra, I am _dying _here."

She tried to not stab her pasta too harshly, but the damn stuff was sticking, dammit, and she wasn't about to sacrifice her dinner just because a few uncooperative noodles didn't know when to _detach _themselves, all right?

It didn't help that Asami was sitting on one of the barstools at the kitchen island, watching Korra's every move over the rim of the mug of hot tea cradled in her hands; Korra only stopped when she heard the grinding, shrieking noise of her fork against the metal pot. She took a deep breath.

"Asami, _no_."

"Korra, _please_?"

"No," she repeated, trying a rubber spatula next, full-out scraping her drying pasta from the pan into the bowl. "I don't care what you said about it being a non-dating, non-relationship or whatever, I don't want to hear about _any_ relations between the two of you, pseudo- or not."

"Ugh, you are killing me," Asami sighed, holding her head in her hands. "We _always _talk men. Who else am I supposed to dish all this out to?"

"Start a journal," Korra quickly replied, then paused. "Actually, don't, that creeps me out even more."

"_You _can act like it's a joke all you want, but I'll have you know that I am suffering, lady. I have so much I want to tell you, but you refuse to listen!"

"I see him almost every day!" Korra exclaimed, giving up on her spatula and gently dropping the remains of the pot in the sink. "If you want to go back to conversations about Iroh, then by all means, talk as dirty as you want, but under _no _circumstances will I want to hear about the details of your little arrangement with my creepy lab rat colleague."

"Well, fine," Asami huffed under her breath, hugging the teacup closer. "Even though I _know _that you really don't think that," she muttered, and then, "So what _can_ we talk about?"

"Anything!" Korra exclaimed, standing on tip-toes as she dug through the cabinets for a better bowl. Maybe some tupperware. "Practically anything but your weird attraction to my even weirder supervisor."

"Fine," Asami smiled, a pure feline in action. "Mako called again."

Something lodged deep in the back corner of the cabinet gave way and fell.

"Oh," Korra replied, hastily fixing the precarious stack of tupperware that she'd nearly destroyed. "Well, that's nothing out of the ordinary."

"It's not?"

"Definitely not," Korra said immediately, shuffling around the plastic containers. "Mako calls all the time, just as much as Bolin does... You know that."

"He said it was important," Asami continued, unfazed. "He was even willing to wait on the line until you got home."

Korra's eyes narrowed into the cupboards. "Yeah? I bet he was."

"What? Don't believe me?"

"Oh, I believe you all right," Korra scoffed, finally settling on an old set of to-go tupperware bowl they'd kept—_stolen_—from the Italian restaurant down the street. She tried not to throw it at the wall. "It's just... It was probably just about our report, you know. It's really important, and it's due in—"

"Mm-hmm," Asami murmured, sipping her tea. "You engineers are so dedicated."

"Asami," Korra deadpanned, staring into space. "You're an engineer, too."

"Mechanical, babe," her lips quirked because—_crap, I looked up, and she got me. _Korra usually knew better than to fall into her roommate's traps, but she literally fell right into that one. "So when we're you going to tell me that you have the hots for your classmate?"

"Ugh, _Asami_," Korra groaned, stabbing her clumpy pasta into her new bowl.

"Don't deny it; you're already in _far_ too deep."

"How would you even know anything about—"

"And don't you _dare_ try to pull that one on me, lady. You might be aiming for flippant, but you just landed waaaay over in the land of obvious. And don't insult me: I've been living with you for five years. I know. Now _spill_."

"How do you _do _that?" Korra asked irritatedly, in full-out stall mode.

"Call it a roommate's intuition, if you will. Or, again, you could just call it obvious."

Korra glared, and opened her mouth to send a flying retort her way, but then sagged beneath the weight of her denial.

"He doesn't seem to think so."

Asami's lips tilted into a thoughtful frown. "Mako's cute, but he's a guy," she shrugged easily, but her casual lack of concern did little to appease Korra of hers. "They need stronger signals, you know. _Hint, hint, _Korra_."_

"I bet you think that was clever," Korra replied shortly, but her laugh gave her away, even as she threw a dirty dishrag at Asami's head.

"It's true! I'm all for women taking the initiative, but half the time people don't realize that we already _are_, even if it doesn't look like it."

"Could you try making sense for a minute, please?"

"This is not new! Confidence breeds confidence. In order for guys to feel confidently about a favorable reception to their advances—"

"Did I accidentally switch on National Geographic in here?"

"Then you need to give them a little _nudge_. Show him that you like him!"

"I _can't _do what you do, Asami," Korra reminded her. "I've _tried_, but I just can't play those tricks."

"They are _not—"_

"I know! I _know_, okay? I just—sometimes I just gotta come out and say it, you know?"

"Then why don't you?"

"Because _I'm _not confident about this at all!"

"Then you're reading the signals all wrong, because he's totally into you!"

Korra rolled her eyes, and bit her tongue. "So now I'm supposed to be transmitting my own signals _and_ reading his, too? Yeesh, what were you doing throughout the whole bar scene that started you and Professor Tight-Pants, then? Between the shine from his hair gel and all your supposed signals, you must have had more flashing lights than an airport."

"Goodness gracious, are you _willingly_ bridging the conversation toward your hot supervisor?"

"_Asami."_

"Right. Sorry," she smiled, looking anything but. "Better not push my luck."

"Please."

A pause.

"Well, you know what, too bad, because you've provided a perfect exception to the rule."

"Oh, _for the love of_—"

"_Shut it_, and listen!"

_Ugh, man, _Korra shook her head hopelessly. Asami was a truly capable girl, and often provided exceptional boy insight, but _this _was bound to be interesting. And by interesting, of course, Korra actually meant a load of total shit.

"Tahno's a bit of a different ball game," she said slowly, sitting up straighter as she spoke.

"That's one way of putting it," Korra muttered, adding a tablespoon of butter to her mess of a bowl.

"Hush," Asami warned. "Tahno's not typical boyfriend material. In fact, he's not boyfriend material at all. He'll never be the guy that I bring home to Daddy–"

"Uh_, __yeah_, can you _imagine—_"

"Hush!"

"_Sorry._"

"He's not looking for commitment in anything but his degree, which is fine by me. After Iroh, I could really use a break from serious, polite, perfect, marriage-talking Mr. Right characters, anyway."

"And you wonder why your father hates—"

"Korra."

"Right, yeah, okay, _yeesh_."

"He's sure of himself not just because of his experience, but because of his determination not to answer to anybody else, _including_ a girlfriend. It's refreshing to meet someone so upfront and honest about his thoughts—_do __not__ interrupt me, Korra, or so help me, God—_and for once I feel like sharing that same kind of forthright candidness is finally something that _won't _make a guy intimidated of me. Do you have any idea how hard It is for me to find someone who won't run off at the first sign of a backbone?"

Actually, she didn't, Korra thought a tad bitterly; she usually scared them off long before she even got the chance. She was unusually strong for a girl her size, after all.

"It's a perfect match for what I need right now. Plus, he is smart. And he is super invested in his work, which makes his schedule unreliable for much of anything except for, you know... that which interests me most."

"_Asami!"_

Her roommate took a delicate sip of her tea, smiling.


	14. they were so exhausted

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed. Nor do I own Disney.**  
Word Count: **2,675**  
Author's Notes: **_1/27/13_. Sorry this took so long! I got a huge wave of last-minute prompts (now closed!) and I wanted to find a way to work them all in together. This isn't originally what I had in mind for your prompt, but it took on a whole life of its own. Hope you like it!

Also! Everyone, please check out this awesome fanart that **kavos-plz **made in honor of this little story adventure! She also made a banner for it too, which you can see on my tumblr "chapter update" posts! ** : / / kavos - plz . [ / ] post / 41470535638**

(Links to _all_ fanart made for my stories can be found at my tumblr! I've finally organized them!)

**Gifted To: **_wrexie_  
_  
_

* * *

**That one night**

___they were so exhausted, they didn't feel like doing anything._

* * *

It'd finally happened: the end of the world.

Well.

Not really.

But no one could convince Tahno otherwise.

* * *

It was during a particularly nasty thunderstorm that the internet went down, and Tahno didn't just mean the wi-fi—_oh, no_. The entire server was down, due to the university's crappy budget cuts and lack of I.T. people and _you know what, it's just a fucking mess, a huge fucking mess and—_

"This can't be happening," he said again, as if somehow this time it might be true.

He could tell that Korra was eyeing him warily, like she didn't quite believe that he was real. Did she think he was trying to be funny? Was this funny to her? Maybe this would be funny to him one day, say, twelve years into retirement, if only he could be so lucky.

Most likely not.

The electricity in the lab was fine—_perfectly fucking fine_—courtesy of the generators stowed away in the basement, but little good that did them _now_. After spending nearly four hours in the lab waiting for the latest experiment to complete—_you know, just something I've done a million and one times, triple-checking, because I'm a psychotic mess_—and painstakingly jotting down all of the data, analyzing it, cross-referencing it, and summarizing it in the report, followed by each of them rereading the online document—_twice_—

They lost it.

"This can't be happening."

"We didn't _lose _it, Tahno," Korra tried to reason with him. "It's still right here. Or most of it, anyway... It was auto-saved to the account a half hour back, and we were good about backing it up pretty regularly, so it's really not that bad. We just can't... Fix it."

He turned toward her then, seeing but unseeing, and blinked. Taking this as some sign of encouragement, instead of the look of intimidation and hatred that it was intended to be, Korra continued, "I mean, it's not like it's actually due until the end of next week, right?"

"Do not _talk _to me about flexibility with my work schedule when you know perfectly well how—"

"Okay! _Okay_. I got it. It's Friday. It's supposed to be done _by Friday_, so that Tenzin could read it over the weekend and get back to you with feedback by _Monday_. I know. I got it."

"We need to send it tonight."

"_Okay_!" she exhaled sharply, piercing him with a sharp glare that he did not feel. "But really, Tahno, think about it—how much of a difference is it really going to make if it gets sent tomorrow morning?" Panic swarmed him. "I mean, it's only going to be a matter of a few—"

"_It has to be done by_—"

"I _know_," she hissed through gritted teeth. "Okay. Okay, I _said_ I got it."

"Well, obviously you must have missed _some_thing or else you would have—"

"Fine! _Fine._ Just shut up and give me a second to think, okay? You're being completely useless by just standing there, all catatonic-like as you are."

He watched her pace the room, hearing occasional snippets through the mumbling—_enough of crazy-ass-Tahno for one week—_and although something deep in the recesses of his mind told him he should be offended, his brain had quite honestly shut down. There was nothing. It was nothing.

"I am nothing," he whispered.

"Dammit, Tahno, don't be such a drama queen, just—_oh! _I got it! I know what we can do!"

Tahno merely looked at her, blinking.

"Well," she faltered, wavering under his blank, penetrating stare. "Why don't we just leave?"

Tahno's nostrils flared.

"No, no, I mean why don't we go work on this somewhere else?" Korra tried to suggest, already starting to feel more than a little frazzled herself; he seemed to have that effect on people. "Don't you have a USB drive? We'll just take it to the library."

"The library closed two minutes ago," he responded blandly.

"What?" Korra whipped toward the clock. "When the hell did it become midnight?"

"At midnight."

She rounded on him so fast that she nearly lashed him with her ponytail, no doubt expecting to see some cheeky sort of taunt in his eyes, but he didn't have any for her.

That was when she started to look well and truly afraid.

"Okay," she said again slowly, taking a deep breath, but he could see her swelling panic. It must have been contagious. "Isn't there some pizza place still open with wi-fi or something?"

"You're telling me that you're going to want to analyze bacteria while sitting in a pizzeria?" She swallowed thickly.

"Good point," Korra whispered. "No coffee shops, you think?"

"Not unless you have connections with some underground caffe mocha ring."

"_Yarrgh_," she groaned, yanking her hood over her head and pulling down on the drawstrings in frustration. _She looks like a miserable and underdressed Eskimo._

"You look like a miserable and—"

"Well, why the hell don't we just go back to your place?"

His gaze shifted. "Did you... just invite yourself over to my apartment?"

Tahno felt something remotely human flicker into life within his eyes for the first time in many, many hours. Korra must have noticed it as well; he certainly noticed the blush peeking through the cavern of her hood.

"It was just a _suggestion_," she defended, but her fingers tightened around the strings.

"It was certainly suggestive," he smirked. Wasting no time at all, she threw her hands into the air and groaned, muttering many more most-likely-offensive things that he couldn't quite catch. "But while I appreciate your eagerness, my apartment is too far."

"Oh, _now _you choose to be responsive. Well, then, Mr. Chatterbox: why don't _you _figure out where we're going to fix this?"

"Why don't we just go to your apartment?" he suggested. Suggestively.

Korra snorted. "And let you get some extra macking time with my roommate? Yeah, right."

"Don't you live nearby?"

"Forget it, pal; it's _not _happening."

* * *

And that was how Korra found herself driving in the rain too late at night, in hot pursuit of the last car she ever thought she'd be following, feeling herself drift farther and farther away from the familiar downtown.

While waiting at a red light—and straining her vision through a blurry dashboard onto the uncommonly empty highway—Korra vaguely wondered if she was going to end up being this bat-shit crazy when it came time for her to pursue _her_ doctorate, however many years from now that was. She doubted she'd be as young as Tahno though, when she eventually went for it.

Korra remembered that she'd almost laughed in Tenzin's face when he told her that _Tahno _was already well on his way through a doctoral program. _Come on. _Professor Tight-Pants? It _was_ downright hilarious... Until she realized what he must have accomplished to have been accepted so young.

A sudden buzz from her pocket signaled a new text on her cell phone, which read:

_Don't you dare get into any sort of accident while you are in possession of that flash drive. I can't believe I let you take it. I will sue you for all you're worth if anything happens to those files._

And then:

_Seriously, little girl, if you think I'm joking then—_

Korra stopped reading, but just as soon as she was about to toss it onto the passenger's seat, another arrived:

_Stop reading while driving! Keep your eyes on the road! _

She swore into her empty car.

Yeah.

Real hilarious, all right.

* * *

"Did you remember to cross-reference the original?"

"I already _did_, back at the lab."

"But did you do it here?"

"_Why_? The data is the same!"

"But now is the perfect opportunity to check _again_."

"Tahno, it's fine. Nothing about the data has changed. Driving twenty minutes into this weird little streetcar suburb did _not _alter our data."

"But—"

"Tahno, I am not checking it _again_!"

* * *

"I hate you so much."

"Less talking, more typing."

* * *

"Where did you put the records from Case #63?"

"I've hidden them away and am planning on paper-cutting you to death tonight while you sleep."

"A simple '_on the coffee table' _would have sufficed."

* * *

"Have you saved it recently?"

"_Yes_."

"You should save it again."

"Tahno, I save it after every _sentence._"

"That's it?"

"_What? _You want me to save it every time I hit the space bar?"

"I've seen your run-on sentences; they could compete in the Boston Marathon."

"You have _got _to be on crack right now. There's no other way of explaining it."

"Just save it again."

"But—"

"_Save it!_"

* * *

"Did you label the files the way I asked?"

"_Yes._"

"Did you? Because I can't submit them if they're not named and organized properly."

"Trust me. You're set."

"Are you sure? Because I'll know if they're not."

"_Tahno._"

"Just double—"

"_No_! No more. _That's it! _That is _it! _Finish that sentence and _I swear to god_, Professor Tight-Pants, the only thing your tongue will be twisting around anymore is a serrated _knife_."

* * *

"...how much longer?"

"Did you proofread the final rough draft?"

"...yes."

"..."

"..."

"...not much longer, then."

* * *

It had to have been close to four in the morning.

He should have passed out by now. He should have already turned off the coffee pot and gotten into a pair of his designer sweats and conked out in his bed, dead to the world. He should have shut his laptop closed twenty minutes ago, when he hit _Submit!_ He should have turned the computer off straight away and gone to bed.

But instead he's spent the last eighteen minutes reading and rereading these lines, torturing himself over the words he'd lost hours before. He remembered every letter, every comma, and they'd recreated the missing final pages of the document to perfection. Tahno was sure that although his original work was gone forever, this was a perfect duplicate. There wasn't anything he'd missed, but he couldn't help but mourn the wasted time and energy; he had so little of either anymore, after all.

Tahno rubbed at his eyelids, allowing himself to feel the fatigue for the first time all evening. _Ah, _he breathed as a heavy weight settled over his limbs like a wave. _There it is. _It took him another moment to will himself to a standing position, but soon he was up and moving in the old kitchenette, pushing in his chair and flicking off the coffee pot. _See you in a few hours, my friend_.

As he stumbled through the few meager steps toward the living room, it occurred to him that the bedroom was simply too far. His couch wasn't that old, was it? It seemed perfectly suitable. Maybe he'd try it. Or the recliner? _No, no, the couch is definitely better..._

He should have planned ahead and just moved his bed into the living room. Or moved the couch into the kitchen. _It's probably something Korra would do. I bet she'd move her couch into her kitchen. She probably already has. Wouldn't put it past her, the little freak. Should have never let her move the one in the lobby. Should have made her stick it out in her chair. It's a perfectly good chair. I should have—_

—realized that she was still here.

Tahno blinked his eyes into the dim light, staring blankly at the small figure curled on his floor, surrounded by mounds of paperwork and at least four different shades of highlighters.

She should have gone home hours ago.

But she didn't, Tahno's tired mind registered, as he watched her shoulders rise and fall. Her brow was smooth, her expression soft and relaxed in the near-silence of his little neighborhood, but her neck was at a weird angle again and—_she should have gone home hours ago_—her back looked like it was leaning too hard against the corner of the couch, like it was being stabbed in the side by a faux-leather wall.

She didn't need to come at all, a little voice reminded Tahno as he leaned over her. She didn't need to, but she _did_, and then—_and then_—she'd stayed. _Why? _the little voice asked; it was no more than a whisper, but it was surprisingly difficult to drown out. With a sigh, he crouched onto the floor, swaying slightly as he almost lost his balance.

She'd helped him when he'd needed it, and she'd stayed when he hadn't asked her to, and then he'd forgotten about her. Tahno rubbed at his brow again, staring down into the young girl's face, feeling like for all of his touted knowledge, he still didn't have a clue. He'd just gotten so used to her presence—so used to her being around—that he hadn't even noticed when she'd become such a natural part of his daily framework; she was always just _there_. That might explain it. Or maybe he just got too caught up in his work again, as usual. _Who am I kidding?_

_Idiot_, he silently sniped as he reached down, though just who he was referring to remained unclear. Uncharacteristically gentle, Tahno carefully slipped one arm beneath her tucked-in knees and—a tad more hesitantly—used the other to support her neck and shoulders as he slowly lifted her into the air. _Damn, you weigh a ton_, he mentally spat, feeling his joints groan as he struggled with his hold. _Curse your deceptive muscles. _Still, he barely so much as _breathed _as he fastidiously arranged her on the couch; he'd already learned his lesson once before, and hell if he was going to face her waking wrath _again_.

He looked down at her then, leaning against the armrest for support as he took in her oversized hoodie and messy ponytail in all of her recent-graduate glory, and decided that he was getting too old for this. He should have woken her, and offered to drive her home.

"You give me nothing but trouble, you know," he whispered.

He should have said thank you.

* * *

_Well. Looks like it'll be the recliner, after all._

* * *

When Korra awoke the next morning, she was warm beneath a blanket-cocoon that smelled like nothing the ones she had at home, but still familiar enough. She cuddled it even closer, but quickly stopped when something awful jolted through her spine. There was a terrible pinching in her neck, but she tried to ignore it. If she could _just_ hold onto this dream, maybe the pain would go away...

Nope.

It wasn't so much waking _up _as it was waking _to the side_. Korra had just blearily opened her eyes to the strange ceiling, feeling a slow-moving panic begin to crawl its way through her senses, when she caught side of a fluorescent highlighter on the ground—_blue—_and remembered.

_I'm at Tahno's apartment? _Korra blinked groggily, and then—

Her head snapped to the side so fast she smothered her nose right into the black leathery pillow cushion of the couch. _Ow_. She paused and took a deep, calming breath, allowing her composure to slowly rebuild as she carefully turned her head back around to the other side. _Stupid girl_, she thought, catching sight of Tahno safely spread out on the recliner a few feet away. She stamped down the observation that he was still fully clothed. _What were you thinking? _

He looked as dead to the world as she felt.

_When did I fall asleep? _she wondered. _When did I move up onto the couch? What time is it? I should get up and go, before he... before he... wakes up... _

But then again, what the hell did she care?

_If he doesn't... then I sure... don't. _Korra yawned and snuggled deeper. _I'll just... stay a little... longer._

* * *

And besides. That blanket smelled too good to resist.


	15. Korra was working late

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.  
**Word Count: **726  
**Author's Notes: **_1/27/13. _On a roll today! And okay, time to go back to drabbles and flash fiction for a while, because these 2,000+ vignettes are actually a little exhausting. :P This also means that I had to alter your prompt a little bit, _**orocoro**_, which I really didn't want to do because it holds such promise (_Tahno gave Asami a tour of the lab while Korra was working late_), but if I let myself go any farther with the word count, _Personal Record _and _gray skies ahead _would never get updated. D: I just can't help myself sometimes...

**Gifted To: **_orocoro _(again!)

* * *

**That one night**

_Korra was working late. _

* * *

"No wonder you're always too tired to go out!"

Korra looked up, bewildered.

"Asami?"

"Just look at you," Asami tutted, closing the door behind her. Korra watched as her roommate strode forward into the lab and made herself at home on the opposite end of her couch. "Hasn't anyone told you that it's a Friday night?"

"It may have occurred to me once or twice," Korra laughed a breath, leaning back into the sofa. "But I work here. What are _you _doing in my bio lab?"

Asami gave her a sly look.

Korra tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach.

"_Seriously_?" Her voice dropped to a whispered hiss. "Couldn't you have at least waited until I got off work?"

"I didn't know you would be here!" Asami whispered back, leaning in close. She looked somewhat apologetic... at first. "I thought you'd be doing the smart thing and be jumping Mako's bones right about now."

"As a bio major, I am a full supporter of bone-jumping," Tahno appeared from the back storage room. Asami's head perked up; Korra's dropped onto her screen. "Even if I do have strong objections about the jumpee."

"You can hold whatever objections you like," Korra loftily informed him, returning her gaze to her work. Asami watched the exchange with interest, highly entertained. "It's still none of your business."

Tahno considered her a moment, brow in full-out quirk. "Fair enough," he conceded, if not a little _too _easily in Korra's opinion. _What the...? __Where's the fight? The banter? _"And speaking of business..." Tahno turned to Asami, his voice suddenly silky as it slid through the air.

_Ugh_.

"Ready when you are," Asami replied in a voice Korra knew all too well. _Double ugh._ This was terrible. Instead of watching one proverbial train wreck, it was like watching _two_. She already knew their little tricks, so seeing them use their tactics on _each other _was downright painful. _Give me a break_, she internally groaned, as they sexed each other up with their respective bedroom eyes. She could see right through both of their little charades, but that didn't mean that she was going to sit around and watch.

"All right!" she snapped, giving Asami's shoulder a gentle kick. "Out, you two! Go get a room or something, and I do _not _mean one of the spare broom closets, Professor Tight-Pants. Get out of here, both of you, I've got work to do."

"Aye, aye, m'lady," Asami winked and stood, quickly taking Tahno by the arm.

"If you'll recall just whose lab it is that you're currently sitting in—"

"Girls' night tomorrow!" Asami called as she dragged Tahno toward the door, where he all but yanked his coat from the hook as she hurried him out. He looked affronted, but it's not like he put up a fight. _Ha. As if he could. _"Don't work too hard!" Asami threw in as an afterthought, about to close the door. Tahno was struggling to get an arm through his coat sleeve, but he still managed to be an ass about it; his smug smirk just _begged _to be punched. She was honestly considering it, when— "I'll see you at home, if you're not too busy gettin' busy with Mako!"

And just like that, in a whirlwind flash of limbs and fabric, the door was shut and the lab was back to its gentle hum of quiet, full of tiny beeps and blinks and ticking. She watched the hushed silhouette shapes of Tahno and Asami through the window shades until they gently flickered out of sight, until she was left only with her laptop and lab work and cooling caffe mocha.

"See you," she said quietly, into the empty lab.

* * *

But Asami didn't come home that night.

The only notice she gave Korra was a 2am '_don't wait up!_' text that left Korra thinking, _Well, I guess it's a good thing I didn't wait up then, _as she put away the half-eaten tub of ice cream and turned off the lights.

* * *

And wasn't it just peachy, she thought, that just when she caught herself thinking that something might have somehow changed, he went and proved that nothing really had.


	16. they found a brand of hot chocolate

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.  
**Word Count: **1,476  
**Author's Notes: **_1/27/13. _DEB! Deb, I've had this written for _ages _and have been waiting for **_FOREVER_** to post it! I just had to wait until the right moment. ;) I hope you like it!

**Gifted To: **_lemonorangelime_

* * *

**That one night**

___they found a brand of hot chocolate she didn't hate._

* * *

It'd started out with noble enough intentions, with Tahno suddenly on a diehard mission to expand Korra's horizons—_You __cannot__ survive on caffe mochas forever, intern, please, what are you, a freshman?_—which meant, of course, that it was a doomed outing from the start.

* * *

The box very nearly fell out of his hands.

"Wait a minute... _you're_ the scholarship student everyone has been talking about?" he floundered, wondering why his tongue suddenly felt so thick in his throat. "The recipient of the _Ava—_"

"Shhh!" she hissed with a ferocious glare, covering his mouth with her gloved hand. "Do you _mind_?"

Korra glanced left and right, eyes frantic with paranoia, but Tahno could only blink. He vaguely decided that she had little reason to worry, anyway; who the hell else would be in this corner of the supermarket at 3AM?

"But... _how_?" he wondered aloud.

"I beg your pardon?"

"No, seriously, I mean... Y_ou _are the Avatar kid?" he scoffed. "_How_?"

"Whatever," she huffed, obviously offended. "Don't think you know everything about me just because I happen to be in your office for a few hours every day. Do you even _know _what I'm studying?"

Tahno blinked again. Had he ever even asked?

Yeesh, he thought, watching as she angrily sorted through at least five different brands of hot chocolate. It didn't look like he was going to be winning any supervisor awards this year.

"I just assumed that you were studying biology," he replied, a bit defensively. "Most rational people are required to commit to labs that align with their coursework, you know. Though now that I think back on the general quality of your reports, I suppose I should hope that my assumptions were wrong."

"Just because you've never seen what I'm capable of doesn't mean that I'm incapable. Your dissertation is not supposed to be _my _area of expertise, thank you."

"I don't get it," he bypassed her comment and shook his head, practically forcing this realization to sink in. "If I were in your shoes, I'd be shouting it from the rooftops. Come to think of it, I'd have figured that if _you _were in your shoes, you'd be doing the same. What's your deal? Why the tight lips?"

She glared, and belatedly, Tahno realized that perhaps that wasn't his best choice in words.

"So I can avoid people like _you _judging me for it. Listen to yourself—just like everyone else! You hear _Avatar_, and suddenly your mind conjures a million petty reasons to look at me differently. Before tonight you questioned my competence on a matter of qualifications—"

"Or lack there of, _actually_—"

"And now I can see you already calculating my grade point average in your head, and wondering how in the hell someone like _me _could deserve something like _this_." With an angry swipe, she grabbed the first box of chocolate powder her arm could reach, and stormed toward the register.

"Hey, wait a minute, don't go tryin' to make me out as some sort of villain or something," he warned, following close behind while ignoring the sharp, subtle pang of guilt he felt right below his second rib. "I have a right to be surprised, you know. It's not like you gave me any sort of _clue _or anything."

"That is the _point_, you moron."

"And what, you were never planning on saying anything? You were just gonna keep me in the dark? So I was really supposed to just go on and continue researching what is conceivably the most important project of my young, glamorous life, never knowing that I _supposedly_ have _the_ best and _the_ brightest of the entire student body _stealing from my snack jar while she completes my lab reports?_"

"You don't even know what I'm supposed to be the best _of_!"

"Well, how the hell am I supposed to know what you're studying?"

"You could _ask _me, you idiot!"

"Fine," he snapped, turning explosive eyes onto her steely ones. "Absolutely _fine_. Whatin the_ hell_, may I ask, is it that you study?"

She stopped, right in the middle of the aisle, so quickly that he nearly ran into her. Her eyes dropped to the ground then and, in spite of himself, Tahno faltered**.**

"Everything," she whispered.

He blinked, not once, but twice, and he _still_ didn't understand what had just happened. He was about to lean down and ask her again, to ask her to repeat what she'd said, but by that time they were already at the cashier's and the woman with the splotchy uniform apron and scratched-up name tag did _not _look particularly pleased to be there so well into the wee hours of the morning. Thus, the few painful minutes spent waiting for their prepackaged hot chocolate to be purchased were spent in awkward, anxious silence.

At least, for _him_, anyway.

Only when they'd finally made it through the electronic sliding doors and into the eerily quiet parking lot did Tahno pause. She kept walking toward the path that led to the science building, but luckily for him, she noticed his absence after a mere few steps. On any other day, it would have been expected, but tonight it only surprised him.

He was surprised that she was still even here.

They looked at each other then, staring at one another over the space of a few feet of frozen pavement, and he'd never found himself wishing so hard for an ounce of decency as he did in that moment.

"What is it that you study?" he asked again, softly.

A small breath of laughter curled into the night air. As she spoke, quietly, carefully, she slowly made her way back toward him. She sounded tired. "My scholarship requires that I study oxygen purification," Korra shrugged, hands still stuffed in her pockets with her plastic grocery bag strung over her arm, rustling gently in the breeze. He was suddenly reminded of another night at the supermarket, one with a very similar coat and a much different feel.

"But is that what you want?" he asked, and Tahno was a little started to realize that he already _knew_.

"Don't get me wrong," she started, voice long and low. "It's fascinating and _vital_ and relevant in its own right, but it's just not me. I want to study _all_ the elements. I want to soak up everything I can about everything—geology, thermodynamics, _hydro_dynamics, and... you know, biology and life in general."

Tahno watched on quietly, waiting, processing, still feeling like he hadn't a clue as to what he should say.

"Tenzin knows how I feel, which is why he set me up here as an elective," she explained, looking up at him again, like she was waiting for his reaction. _Good luck with that one_, he thought absently; he had absolutely no idea what she might find in his expression. "Well," she laughed, tapping her forefinger to her temple as she pondered her afterthought. "He gave me the choice. It was either the biology lab or working with Professor Lin Beifong in geology and _that _was never gonna happen. Well, her or the creepy professor in the blood lab, but... well, you can imagine the intensity of my _no_."

"Right," he frowned, remembering. "Tarrlok. They guy with the... rats."

She shrugged, squinting, suddenly looking sheepish. "So that left you."

Tahno paused. "Me," he repeated, deadpanning under the light of the thick neon signs. "Against creepy blood guy with the rats and hard-ass titanium lady with the rocks?"

She bit her lip, considering.

"And your snack jar."

He deflated, but tried to pull it off as a glare.

"Stellar," he muttered under his breath. With a heavy sigh, he readjusted his hands in his pockets, somehow so much colder than they should have been, and looked up toward the moon.

"I don't..." she hesitated. "I don't particularly regret choosing the biology lab." He glanced at her to the side, surprised again, though hell if he'd show it. "I mean, you _do _have some pretty decent snacks," Korra smiled, if not a little cautiously.

Tahno looked down at her then, so close, so warm, and there was something about the moment that made it different from all the rest, something that told him about how _easy _it could be, if he wanted it be, if he leaned down just an inch or two, just a breath away—

"What kind did you end up buying?" he asked suddenly, instead.

Korra looked down at the box in her bag with surprise, and then laughed, almost as if she'd forgotten that it was there.

"Hell if I know," she muttered quietly to herself.

She smiled at him, laughing, and, slowly, he smiled back.

* * *

And wouldn't you know it, but Korra finally found a brand of hot chocolate that she didn't entirely hate.


	17. they went for a swim

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed. **  
Word Count: **1,507**  
Author's Notes: **_2/11/13_. I can't seem to stop writing these. This little misadventures series offer such great breaks from the more-involved stories, like _Personal Record _or _gray skies ahead._ Prompts are closed for the meantime, but... I'm not sure if I'm willing to let these two go just yet. :P This is very well turning out to be a long, drawn-out, extended sort of project.

**Gifted To: **_anonymous!__  
_

* * *

**That one night**

___they went for a swim.  
_

* * *

It was just another typical Tuesday evening.

(Until the sprinklers went off.)

* * *

"Will you at least _pretend _to do something productive?"

A tad guiltily, Korra glanced back. Tahno was grumpily hunched over his chaotic desk, as per usual, while she'd practically glued her greedy little nose to the computer screen; she wasn't even trying to hide the page she was looking at. A new video game release was exploding all over the browser—Halto or Balto or Halo or something. Whatever. He didn't pretend to keep up with those sorts of things.

"Sorry," she winced, but she made no move to minimize. "Though it's not like I can really do anything until you prepare the next stack of articles for me to go through, right?"

A deep, penetrating sweep of Tahno's red pen tore across the crisp white paper; he thought it rather accentuated his glare. "You could start packing up the samples."

Korra blinked, finally turning her head fully. Ah. _Now _she was giving him her undivided attention. They were going to have a talk, really, because he had put up with this kind of behavior for long enough, but if she were going to continue working in _his _lab, under _his _supervision, then—

"But... we didn't do any experiments today," Korra's eyes squinted with confusion. "There aren't any out."

Tahno's red pen paused. Ah. Right. "Fine. Then arrange the files in the cabinets according to topic, and then alphabetically," he ordered. They were an absolute _mess_ the last time he checked.

She allowed herself a _spinny-chair twirl—_another one of her stupid pet names for childish acts that would be committedby nobody but _she—_before answering. "I did that last Thursday," she said simply, her upturned gaze circulating under the ceiling.

Oh.

"Did you make sure to update the labels?" he tried, but it was in vain. Korra merely laughed.

"You know, sometimes I'm not even sure why you still need an intern."

Something within him squeezed. "_This program_ entails a_ highly demanding schedule _that requires _a substantial workload_ that is _both challenging and demoralizing,_ occasionally bordering on _overwhelmingly_—"

"_Okay, _okay. Okay. I _know_, I got it. I'm just _saying__..._" Twirl. "That it might make more sense to be more strategic with how you distribute the hours, you know? Maybe enlist the help of another assistant during the really crunchy projects and then cut back on some hours during the downtime-lulls."

Tahno blinked. There were too many things wrong with what she'd just stated. "Crunchy projects?"

"Yeah, y'know, like—_crunch time_. The really crunchy ones."

Tahno blinked again, then turned determinedly back to his paperwork. "The next time you open your mouth, it'd best be about fresh-water bacteria, or rainfall shortages in the south."

Sensing a victory, Korra showfully pursed her lips shut, shot him a knowing, waggling set of eyebrows, and turned back to her violent and destructive video game advertisement. Dammit.

He opened his mouth once more—

—and promptly choked down a gulp of stale, dirty, pipe water.

* * *

"What did you _do_?!"

"What did _I _do!? _I_ didn't do anything!"

"_Fuck! _Quick, the computer—"

"Too late! The files, on the desk—they're—"

"Grab your phone—it's—the puddle—"

"Awww, _dammit, _the couch!"

"_The entire lab is flooding and you're worried about the upholstery?!"_

* * *

"Goddammit," Tahno hissed, sloshing through what was rapidly becoming half-a-foot of water. The alarms were sounding all throughout the building—_they should have known better than to place the biology labs in the same __sector__ as the fire-happy chem freshmen__!_—and he could hear the shouting and cursing from the nearby stairwells with ease.

Tahno stood alone amidst the chaos, in the center of his laboratory-turned-wading pool with hands placed firmly on his hips, regally and unavoidably _wet_. He watched a soggy sheet of loose leaf paper float by.

"_Tahno_?" a voice called from the lobby. He recognized it like the back of his hand, but he didn't bother to look up. The sprinklers, still running, were pelting the bits of paper down into the roughs of the shallow waves, and he was watching the struggles with a detached, morbid sort of curiosity.

"There you are!" came the relieved sigh, broken by soft panting breaths and the deceivingly gentle sounds of the ceaseless indoor rain. "The important stuff is dry in your trunk—well, _mostly_, anyway—and I just called Tenzin, so he's already working out the budgeting kinks for the replacements, and I practically accosted one of the maintenance guys in the parking lot, so the system should be turned off _soon_, but it's still anybody's guess for how long it'll be until—" She paused, abruptly. "Hey... are you... are you okay?"

He didn't look up.

Upon hearing his continued silence, and no doubt sensing distress, or perhaps another explosive true-to-Tahno malfunction of some kind—_Danger! Danger! Danger!_—Korra stiffened, then approached him slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements. He could only see her out of the corner of his eye, but he got the vague impression that it was a good thing she'd never be asked to hunt in _this_ lifetime.

"Tahno?" she tried, warily. She was right at his side now, and although she'd relaxed, he still hadn't. "Hey... you're not gonna freak out again or anything, are you? Because the damage really won't be all that bad, you know, even with—"

At her sudden pause, his eyes finally wandered towards hers. He'd felt the drips from the strands of his long bangs spilling onto his lips—could practically _taste _the staleness there—and so he'd moved his back of his hand to wipe the water away, glaring at the rising line of water against his desk in all of its offensive glory. And then she'd stopped.

Curious, Tahno quirked a demanding brow and angled himself toward her, waiting expectantly; what, then, was more surprising?

The slight hitch to the breath in her throat as he turned? Or the flush lining the cheeks of her open, gaping stare?

(Or the unfamiliar wave of self-consciousness he felt while standing under it?)

A beat passed, then another, but still she did not speak, and soon it was merely the two of them, standing wet and dripping and silent under the steady stream of sprinklers in a supposedly-once-science lab, ankle-deep in still-stagnant water, unmoving and unyielding and unwilling to think. _She's cute_, he thought suddenly, just before surprise quickly overtook him. _Idiot, already knew that—I __know__ she's cute, that is, but—I mean, she's __actually__ not half-bad looking, and is—might actually be—sort of—maybe, at least, when wet_—

Abruptly, he cleared his throat. She blinked at the sound, rapidly, which promptly snapped the world back into focus for both of them.

_Shit._

"Looks like we might be out of commission for a few days," Korra plowed on immediately, pretending that nothing was amiss. Like nothing strange had just occurred between them. He bit the inside of his cheek, nodding thoughtfully. Korra paused, just a moment more, and when Tahno thought that he might finally open his mouth to say something, she blurt out: "Look, I should call Tenzin one more time, to keep him updated, um, y'know—on the chaos, so. I'll just—I'll be right back."

Tahno watched her trudge through the water with forceful strides, feeling the lukewarm water drip into the fabric at his back.

_What... just...?_

It was then that Tahno happened to glance down and catch sight of himself. It took a moment, but once realization set in, a slow smirk curled over his lips.

* * *

Tahno ultimately decided that it certainly wasn't the _worst_ day for him to have worn a thin, white dress shirt.

* * *

As she followed him to his car—arguably less affected by their little _non-moment_ than he remembered her being five minutes ago—she rattled off all of the damage-control tasks she'd completed in the last fifteen or so minutes, or rather, all of the things that could be further categorized under _Korra_ S_aves the Day—Yet Again! _As he buckled himself in, still vaguely listening to her rushed chatter, Tahno wondered why he hadn't noticed any of her frantic errands while they were happening. But—_ah, _yes, that's right; he hadn't noticed her grand efforts to salvage his life's work because all throughout the faux-storm Tahno had, of course, played the stunning role of _drenched totem pole. _

Masterful job, really.

It was as she was leaning into his open car window, talking his ear off about having rescued his latest stack of articles and apologizing for not being able to save the label-maker, that Tahno looked up at her still-yammering profile, and that Tahno realized something very important.

_This, _he thought, watching her jaw as it moved. This was it. This was exactly why he needed an intern.

But _actually,_ he decided, ten minutes later on the silent drive home. That wasn't quite right.

* * *

It was why he needed a Korra.


	18. Korra was just a little too distracted

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed. **  
Word Count: **572**  
Author's Notes: **_2/14/13_. Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! Hope you enjoy. ;)

**(Bonus!)**

* * *

**That one night**

_Korra was just a little too distracted._

* * *

It was henceforth known as _The Great (And Terrible) Flood_.

(Tahno would never refer to it that way out loud, of course, probably even under pain of death, but Korra just _knew _that he called it that too, in the privacy of that oversized head of his.)

Anyway, the rest of the week's lab work was completed according to a pseudo-nomadic existence, in which they bounced around every coffee shop and diner in Korra's _busy-young-professional_ neighborhood, occupying whole booths in the corners of unsuspecting restaurants, carting their bags and mountains of paperwork with them wherever they went. They tipped generously every time (at Korra's insistence), they managed to maintain at least eighty percent of their typical productivity rates (under Tahno's authoritarianism), and he only forgot his reading glasses twice (the blame for which was still a matter of understandably heated debate).

She got into the habit of kicking her feet up onto the seat of the booth on which he sat—a space he never needed, never used, but always complained about not having, anyway—and he got used to her frequent—_extended—_trips to the upstairs bakery, even though she always ended up buying the same double-fudge brownies. (And she never offered to share. The cow.)

Their new, temporary routine quickly became second-nature; seamlessly passing paperwork back-and-forth over the cluttered table; a mess made of coffee-stained chaos, sheets of lined paper spattered with dark liquid and bright red ink, a system of organization that only they understood; acting preemptively on suggestions and commands only half-spoken, intuitively, like the stiff links of a chain having finally worn themselves flexible, like a well-oiled machine.

(And Korra got rather used to the look that came in his eye as he pored over a document, and the way he would automatically reach for his coffee cup when she occasionally nudged it toward him, without ever looking up.)

Despite their relative accomplishments under the _less-than-ideal_ circumstances—amidst all of the displacement and irregular hours and confined spaces—Korra occasionally found it especially difficult to fully concentrate on her work. And who _could_ have, what with the _scratch-scratch _of Tahno's pen—because _one_ strikethrough line was never enough—and the way he twirled his pen through his long fingers—and then scolded her for doing the same, like he didn't even _realize_ that he had the habit himself—not to mention all of endless _sighing_ and shifting and—_oh_!—and the stupid way he would look at her over the rims of his reading glasses and—_well, _Korra thought with a huff._ Forget_ about it.

But.

Maybe.

Maybe that was the problem.

* * *

She _wanted_ to forget about it all. (Believe it, she did.) But Korra couldn't forget; not about that moment during _The Great (And Terrible) Flood_—just barely an _instant, _not _even_ a moment, really_—_she couldn't forget the _non-moment _when it was just the two of them in the lab, when the whole room was literally swirling around them, when Korra nearly forgot that she had legs, that she was standing—_because she was falling, wasn't she, is that what that was?_—when her head was swimming and her legs were still somehow standing, and that feeling washed over her—

What Korra always _could_ do, however, was tell when she'd drifted off for too long.

(It often included her catching Tahno glaring at her, his eyes narrowed, his thoughtful and critical gaze framed by a_ made-just-for-you _scowl.)

She usually took that as her cue to get back to work.

* * *

(Usually.)


	19. Korra witnesses a Tahsami date

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed. **  
Word Count: **940**  
Author's Notes: **_2/14/13_. Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! Just another quick one posted while waiting for the boyfriend to get out of his piano lessons. :P I have a whole bunch already written, so expect a few more soon!

**Gifted To: **_likeabirdinflight**  
**_

* * *

**That one night**

___Korra witnesses a Tahsami date with Bolin._

* * *

But of course.

This was reality.

(And things were never quite that simple.)

* * *

"Ugh, _man._ Of all the bars to end up in..."

Bolin peeked at the booth along the far wall, shooting a glance that only _he _could think was sneaky. _Whatever. It's not like they noticed; it'll be at least a century before either of them even bother looking anywhere else. They probably got confused, staring into the shine of each other's hair gel._ Hmm. Bolin would appreciate that joke.

Too bad it wasn't funny.

"What's wrong with the two of them hanging out?" he asked, in such an honest, curious way that all considerations of deception promptly flew from Korra's mind... _But evasion might work. _

"Nothing, I just... I guess I should just resign myself to the fact that they're not gonna get tired of one another anytime soon."

Bolin looked concerned. "Is he that bad of a guy?"

"No..." Korra sighed, feeling herself waver. "It's just _weird_, you know? Since he's my supervisor and all." Now Bolin just looked interested; he leaned closer over their booth's table, dropping his voice low. Pfft. _The little gossip._

"You think she has real feelings for him?" he whispered.

Korra snorted. "God, no."

"...do _you _have feelings for him?"

Korra nearly stilled, but quickly recovered. "If wanting to retch every time he makes a lewd comment counts, then yes." (Denial.)

"So..." Bolin squinted. (Confusion.) "So you _don't _like him?"

"I _do_," Korra sighed, exasperated. "I mean, I guess I do. But only because I'm so used to him now. He's a total sleaze."

"So you _do _like him... But not... in... _that _way?" he tried to clarify. _What the hell was this now? (_Suspicion?)

"Bolin, what are we, in high school?" she scoffed, dropping her voice lower too. _Great, now I'm just as bad as he is!_ "No, okay? And if this is how we're gonna discuss it, then let me be the first to just come right out and tell you that I don't particularly like _anyone_ at the moment, to be honest, thank you very much."

Confusion redoubled. "I thought you liked my brother?"

"_What?_" Korra's eyes grew wide as saucers. He merely gave a sheepish smile and a shrug. "Oh, for the love of—you _knew_?" The hell. _Not Bolin, too!_

"Of course."

(Panic.) "Does _he_ know?"

"Dude," Bolin outright laughed. "Of course not. It's _Mako_. I was wondering when you were going to enlist my help for an intervention. That guy really is as dense as a block of wood, you know."

"Terrific."

"Wait. Were you serious about not liking anyone? Not even... not even my brother?"

Korra sighed. "_Yeah._ I think that ship has sailed... and sunk."

"Ooh, clever."

"Bolin."

"Though perhaps next time you should go for _wrecked _instead."

"_Bolin_."

"Sorry, sorry. Right. Well, this certainly opens things up then!"

"For what?"

"For a little manhunting, of course," Bolin waggled his brows. "You got the goods, I got the insights—together we'll be unstoppable!"

Korra blinked. "Are you... are you offering to be a _wingman?" _(A disconcerting lack of surprise.)

"_Please_, Korra, I'm the best there is; I prefer to be called _the _wingman."

"Really. I'd like to see statistics on that."

"I even have business cards."

Korra's left eye twitched. "Bolin, look, that's... _nice_ and all, with you trying to cheer me up and everything, but... shouldn't you be off getting some action of your own?"_ No need to drag down anyone else's love life, after all. _(Bitterness.)

"Oh, you shouldn't worry about me, Korra," Bolin laughed, very much amused over a private joke. "The Bolin-ator has plenty of fish already hooked. You see, _my_ problem is that there's simply not enough of Bolin to go around."

She shot him a look.

"Okay, so maybe it's been like _four _dates since Christmas, but still! At least they're biting."

"Yeah, well," Korra scoffed, staring down into her beer. She took another swig, but her eyes inevitably slid to the side, where they found two _other_ gazes still ensnared in what could only be each other's oozing sexuality. She scoffed again. "Even _I_ wouldn't be opposed to a little biting these days." (A very _particular_ kind of frustration.)

Bolin's eyebrows perked up, curiously—_suggestively?—_but her dry glare leveled him.

"_Bolin_."

(Seriously though. If Korra were to slip a container under their _none-the-wiser_ faces, she could probably sell the stuff for profit. She'd make millions.) _And their faces are going to get stuck like that, eventually. _

"Hey!" he smirked, tapping his glass to hers in a quick _cheers_! On the one hand, it brought here straight back down to Earth, but on the other... well. His smile was bright and boisterous and almost made her crack one herself. "Can't blame a guy for tryin', right? But enough of that. _My_ vote for the rest of the evening is that we get shit-faced and walk back to my place and then play video games loudly until Mako flips his lid."

And that was all it took—the smile finally broke through.

* * *

Although their tolerance levels left hardly any opportunity for actual debauchery—_he'd earned the Bolin-ator nickname in college, after all, and she wasn't called a tank for nothin'_—they still played a _shit_-ton of video games, and Mako still flipped his lid, which—in Korra's honest opinion—made the night just _that much _better.


	20. Korra caught Tahno with his pants down

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed. **  
Word Count: **1,060**  
Author's Notes: **_2/15/13_. Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! (Again!)

**Gifted To:** _shoeninja**  
**_

* * *

**That one night  
**

_Korra caught Tahno with his pants down._

* * *

All she'd wanted was the box of frozen waffles.

"Oh, fucking _hell._"

Korra eyed the five gallons of ice cream sitting in her freezer—in sheer _horror_—and slammed the door shut.

* * *

"You have a problem."

Tahno looked up, peering at her over the rims of his reading glasses. "I currently only see one problem in the room, and I have a feeling it's not what's on your mind."

"Tell me what this Thursday is," she demanded, striding towards his desk.

"It's a Thursday," he dryly replied.

"What _kind _of Thursday?"

Tahno glared at her, then decided to simply ignore the rest of the conversation. _Best not to encourage her._ "Don't you have files to file?" he waved dismissively, turning back to his work. "Go. Off with you."

"Tahno. It's _Valentine's Day_."

He stilled. Then, very slowly, Tahno looked up at her. She blinked.

He blinked.

"So?" he drawled, but even he could hear the new note of caution in his tone. _Dammit._ "What do you expect me to do about it?"

"Tahno, don't tell me you don't realize what this is going to mean if you don't do anything for Asami this week?!"

Tahno had to blink a few times to clear his head. "We're not _dating,_" Tahno pointed out reasonably, still not seeing the point. "Technically... I don't have to do _anything."_

And then things got serious.

Korra was suddenly very, very close, lowering herself down to eye-level. He eyed her hands on his armrests with distaste, but she didn't seem to notice; she was hovering right over him. Just another step or two and she'd straddle him.

He forced himself not to swallow.

"This isn't a game, Tahno," she claimed, but he had the sneaking suspicion that, somehow, he was already losing. "And since you're so clueless, I'm gonna have to give you the run down." She leaned closer in; uncertain, Tahno leaned farther back.

"Asami—_bless her_—is a fickle creature. Gifted with an insatiable sexual appetite and the face of an angel, her body essentially gives her all of materials she'd ever need to lay the perfect trap for unsuspecting men who, by the way, are frequently found to be more than willing to bend to her will—yourself included." He scoffed; she didn't acknowledge his outburst. "While inarguably convenient for her more primal desires, and occasionally her socioemotional ones, these trends in behavior more often than not allow her to get tangled up in short-lived love affairs with guys who are either so perfect for her that she flees—her latest ex, Iroh, case-in-point—or those who are so wrong for her that she'll have no hope of ever taking them seriously as a lifelong partner, and so merely chooses to use them as a means of fulfilling her sexual needs until she eventually tires of them and tosses them to the curb—you, of course, would be the _latter."_

"Is this supposed to be convincing me that—"

"What many fail to realize, however, is that during all of the major romantic holidays, regardless of whether or not she's single, taken, or happily bouncing three men at once—"

"Th_—three_?"

"The one she comes home crying to is _me_," Korra's eyes narrowed. "Whether it's mindless sex followed by an all-niter of Disney movies or mindless, bone-breaking, _primal_ sex followed by three tubs of ice cream, _I'm _the one that's going to have to deal with all her pent-up sexual frustration and deeply-rooted daddy issues and never-ending disappointment with the typical male specimen. So. I don't care if it's romantic or suggestive or just downright explicit, but you are _doing _something for Asami on Thursday in honor of this stupid holiday, or so help me god, Tahno, you can expect a living _hell _come Friday afternoon, in which I will seek revenge on you in all the worst ways, starting with a demonstration on _I don't even know what yet, but it ain't gonna be pretty, so don't you dare test me."_

Tahno stared at her. Korra stared down at him. She was so close. She was _right there_.

"I'll think about it," he hissed, surprised to find much of any voice at all.

Korra leaned back, and smiled.

"Great," she quipped. "Good talk."

She settled in at the new computer desk not long after that and got straight to work. He glared at her back for the remainder of the afternoon.

(And he was very, very lucky, Tahno realized, that at no point during her tirade had it occurred to her to look _down._)

* * *

That Thursday night, Tahno took Asami out to a nice restaurant, got her 'fuck-buddy' flowers—_it was so clever, Korra, just wait 'til you see them!_—and then even _bought_ her ice cream. Korra was proud of him.

(Really. She was.)

Korra stayed at home in her sweats and planned to watch cheap zombie movies all night, occasionally texting Bolin—_thanks, but I'm not really in the mood to go dancing_—and when Asami didn't come home at a reasonable hour—_fuck it_—she put borrowed a pair of Asami's skinniest skinny jeans—_she won't mind_—and wingman-skills or no, manhunt or _no_, Korra decided to put Bolin's money where his mouth was.

The night ended way past her weeknight bedtime—_Ahh, I knew you were a rebel, Korra!_—and they stumbled—_half-dancing, half-drunk_—into Korra's apartment at half-past two, with Korra's arms full of corner store liquor and Bolin's mouth running off over the incredible hotness of this one girl he danced with for half a song, leaving Korra breathless with laughter, until the lights flipped on—

—and it turned out that Asami _did _come home after all.

* * *

After the very awkward goodbyes—they'd needed to find _his_ shirt, and Bolin _just wouldn't stop_ apologizing over his shameful lack of will-power in preserving Asami's honor_—_the men were outed, the door was shut, and the very exhausted roommates were finally, finally left to themselves.

For the first time in four years, there was no Valentine's Day talk; Korra didn't have much to say to Asami for the rest of the night (and it's not like she gave Asami a chance to say much of anything, anyway).

In an unspoken agreement, it was decided that they would start (_finish_) the Roommate Contract conversation in the morning.


	21. they played a game

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed. **  
Word Count: **274**  
Author's Notes: **_2/15/13_. In which I abuse every romantic comedy trope that's ever existed.

**Gifted To: **_kickingconcrete__  
_

* * *

**That one night**

___they played a game.  
_

* * *

Tahno expected many different things to happen Friday afternoon. Knowing Korra—and he liked to pretend that he _did_—it was still impossible to predict exactly what her reaction to the previous night's _incident _would be. Tahno likened the anticipation of waiting to the world's most difficult guessing game; only, instead of playing a game, it felt like running a gauntlet, and instead of moving pieces forward, each guess felt like pulling the pin off another grenade.

And speaking of _explosions_—a tantrum, perhaps? (Maybe she'd fly off the handle the second she entered the lobby, and his ears would be greeted by a storming rampage about respecting _habitats_ and privacy and probably something about leaving a _courtesy tie._) Or maybe she would actually hit him? (No, no, there were university policies for that sort of thing.) If nothing else, at the very least, he expected a little cold shoulder. Korra wasn't the kind to reel in her anger, but he bet it could manifest in all sorts of ways. (Though he certainly wouldn't imagine her capable of the _silent_ treatment for very long.)

When it came down to it though, really, he knew with certainty that no matter how much she might like to pretend otherwise, Korra was simply not capable of holding a grudge. Armed with this knowledge, Tahno entered his lab Friday afternoon with two caffe mochas—extra hot, no whipped cream—and an air of bravado that he only _wished_ he could feel, but was ultimately ready to face whatever _Korra-catastrophe_ came his way.

(What he didn't expect, of course, is exactly what happened.)

Friday evening came and went, and Korra... never came at all.


	22. Korra gets a visit

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed. **  
Word Count: **1,862  
**Author's Notes: **_2/23/12. _Have you noticed my obsession with love pentagons yet? Because I _love _love pentagons. They're my fave.

**Gifted To:** _rubiff**  
**_

* * *

**That one night  
**

_Korra gets a visit.  
_

* * *

"You're not gonna answer that?"

Korra spared a glance toward the cellphone laying upon the couch's armrest; the blinking screen showed that she now had _three_ messages waiting for her, not to mention the two missed calls from before. "Nope_._"

"But won't your boss get upset?" Mako's forehead scrunched with concern. _Typical_. _This guy only has two settings: Money-monger... and Mom. _

"He's not my boss," she said flatly. A few seconds of awkward silence followed—_surprise!_—and Korra finally realized that Mako had yet to withdraw his _judgment face_. "What?" she nearly snapped. "I sent him an e-mail saying that I needed to take the day off. I followed protocol! It's not my fault he doesn't check his inbox unless somebody reminds him."

_Ah—there, down goes his eyebrow... Incoming! _

"It just seems kind of harsh, you know... to just blatantly ignore his messages like that."

The look she sent him was drier than sandpaper. "I took the day off. I'm essentially on _vacation_. Does he honestly expect me to answer this late on a Friday night? And even if I _hadn't_ skipped, I would have left the lab hours ago, anyway, so it's not like he can really expect me to be free." Yeah. Okay. Because all of her _other _Friday nights were always so riveting.

"Yeah, but wouldn't you want him to reply back to _your_ messages?"

"Dude. Why do you care? I thought you hated this guy."

Mako scowled. "I'm just saying that if a guy is texting you that much, the least you could do is respond _once_, all right?"

"Oh, yeah? So still no word from my roommate, then?"

"...that's what we call a _low blow_, Korra."

_Oh, really? 'Cuz I could show you just how low I can blow. _

—and whoa-_kay_, time to put the bottle _down_, polar bear.

"Sorry," she mumbled, absently pressing the glass into her lips. "I'm just irritated with the jerk, okay? I'll text him back eventually."

"Yeah, whatever... Ugh, sorry. You're right. I don't care about that asshole," he announced with a scoff, taking another swig of his beer; despite her better judgment, it wasn't long before Korra followed suit. _Damn. Commercial break. I wonder how long I can flip away from ESPN before he freaks out._

"So... Asami's still seeing your creepy boss then, after all?"

Korra rolled her eyes, mindlessly scrolling through the channels. "Yep."

"Damn," he hissed. "I _still _don't know what she sees in this guy."

"Hnn."

"I mean, unless you're into the eyeliner and the tight pants sort of thing, or whatever."

"Mm-hm."

"Or just _insane_, because that guy is clearly a tool."

"Hmm."

Mako looked up. Korra kept her eyes glued to the TV.

And then he did something that surprised her.

"Sorry," Mako mumbled. "I promised we'd hang out, but all I keep doing is talking about your roommate... Or your asshole boss."

Korra took another swig from her beer. "He's _not_ my boss."

(She hadn't bothered coming up with an excuse—he probably wouldn't have believed one—and who said she even needed to make one, anyway? _She _hadn't done anything wrong. [Except. Except she'd totally brought this on herself, hadn't she?] She'd sent an e-mail, straight to the point. _Sorry for the late notice, but I won't be in the lab today. Something came up._)

Korra took another sip, at least _trying_ to tone it down. Mako was obviously feeling uneasy, checking his phone every few obnoxious seconds. Honestly. What was he expecting?

"She's not gonna be texting back for a while, you know. She's visiting her dad for the whole weekend, so you can just relax with the scowly eyes thing."

"What?" Mako's forehead wrinkled. "Ugh—no, sorry, it's not that. I just... I was just thinking about this whole thing. How weird it must be for you that I've been... all over Asami lately." Is this the part where he was gonna tell her how he felt awkward around her? Like he didn't know how to act? _Ugh. __Spare me. _She'd heard it all before.

"If you'd rather wait until Bolin's practices are over to start watching the games here, that's totally fine," she said nonchalantly, even though it struck a chord within her. "I've noticed that you and I don't seem to have the best team-chemistry when it's just the two of us."

"What? No, that's not it," Mako said hurriedly. "I just... I've been feeling pretty bad about how things have been going these last few weeks. Bolin's been giving me crap for it all month—about me getting so stuck on Asami, but... I don't know. It's been hard to stay focused, you know? And I know it's been affecting you guys because I've been such an idiot recently, and... you're already dealing with enough awkwardness as it is because of... well. Anyway. I'm sorry."

Korra blinked. "Wow... Uh." _How do I respond to that? Thanks? _"Yeah, sure... Um. Sure thing."

_Stupid._

"Yeah," he sighed, taking a sip from his bottle. "Don't mention it." A mirthless chuckle. "And whatever. It's not like it's ever gonna happen with me and her, anyway... She's way outta my league."

Korra tried to be patient.

"This is true."

(Really.

She tried.)

Mako sent her a droll look. "Yeah, _thanks_. A true friend, you are." (She raised her glass in mock-cheers. Cheerfully.) "Anyway, you don't have to worry about me pining anymore," he sighed again. "I can take a hint. Well, mostly. Sometimes. Bolin tells me I'm one of the most oblivious guys in the world, and I'm finally starting to think it might be true."

Korra snorted. "_That's _for sure."

"Excuse me?"

Korra swigged, eyes locked on the endless montage of various two-second commercial blips dashing across the screen. "You know I liked you, right?"

Mako blinked, startled.

"You—_what_?"

Korra kept flipping. After yet another prolonged silence, she tilted her head to look at him, surprisingly bored. _Figures. Even Mako can turn an intriguing reveal into something dull. _

"Oh, yeah. I had the biggest crush on you since the start of fall term." Then Korra laughed, while Mako merely looked at her, dumbfounded. "Apparently, everyone else already knew about it. The jerks. You don't have to worry about it anymore though, since I'm currently pining over _another _oblivious jerk who hasn't noticed me."

"You—I—_what_?"

"Sorry, that was a bit much all at once. And I didn't mean to indirectly imply that you're a jerk; it's not your fault you're so totally clueless."

Mako looked lost.

"I... feel like I should be offended by that."

_I'm offended by your face_. Actually. Nope. Not really. It was still just as attractive as ever. _Dammit. _"You're more than welcome to be," Korra offered graciously. "I didn't exactly mean it kindly. You're a good guy to chill with, Mako, but I can't say I'm all that disappointed that things never worked out the way I'd hoped."

"What... what do you mean by that?"

"You mean aside from the fact that you're totally hooked on my beautiful roommate?" Oh, god. Mako actually _blushed_. "Here, we can make a whole list. Let's see. One: it's been over half a year, and we still know next to nothing about one another. Two: we work very closely with one another in classes, so just imagine the awkwardness there. Three: when we're not drinking—or talking about said beautiful roommate—we literally have nothing to talk about—_ah_! My mistake. Sports. That is literally the only thing we have in common. So, there you go. Aside from your decent taste in teams and your sometimes laughable, but forgivable, general understanding of the rule book, we've got nothing to connect us. And we'll be graduating in no time at all... Just another year and a half in the same program and—_boom. _That'd be it."

Mako swallowed another gulp of his beer. (She rather thought the alcohol helped with the processing, too.) He looked pale. "You don't... you don't think we'd work?" he asked.

Korra's head lifted, just fractionally, as she glanced up. _The hell?_

"In a relationship? Never. As friends?" she shrugged, allowing a playful smirk. She was just teasing him now. "We'll get by. As long as you keep bringing those citrusy tortilla chips, I'm totally game."

The game was finally back on and she was content to get back to watching her shows, ironically feeling closer to Mako than ever. But... Even though his eyes seemed glued to the TV screen, she couldn't help but notice that he looked unsettled. He took a huge gulp of his beer. _Uh-oh. _

_I think I broke him. Shit. Stupid! What's that Asami's always saying? About the signals? Ahh, crap, I thought he was totally getting the joke—now I have to explain this mess and—_

"Are those the only options?" Mako asked suddenly, his voice tight with caution. Her ears perked up. A strange rhythm punctured her heartbeat.

"The only two I was aware we had available," she answered honestly. "Unless..."

_No. _Nope. She wasn't going to allow herself to finish that sentence. _O-kay_, _Korra, that's enough now... you've had __plenty__. Just put the beer down, nice and slow—_

"You think..." he bit off his words, frustrated. "How much do you think our friendship has in terms of... flexibility?"

Wait.

Was he...?

(She probably wasn't breathing at this point.)

"Mako," Korra said very carefully. "Are you... insinuating what I think you're insinuating?"

His blush deepened. "Well, I'm just—" (Flustered.) "You know, figuring that we both are in similar situations right now, and—" Hand through his hair. "Damn. Too much to—too much to drink." (He took another sip.) "Look, I'm just saying—"

"Are you by any chance proposing that we—you and I—two people who are not interested in each other romantically _at all—_but are instead very much interested in _other, _clearly unavailable people—fool around... with each other?"

Mako blinked. "Oh, god, you're right, that sounds _terrible_, I don't know what the hell I was—"

"Do you really think I'm that kind of girl?"

"I'm sorry—no, I just—God, I'm sorry—"

And then she kissed him.

When they finally pulled away, breathing hard, Korra laughed under her breath. "For the record, I'm _not," _she whispered through a dangerous smirk, voice hoarse from beer and kissing. "But at this point, I'm sexually frustrated enough that I'm willing to try just about anything," she panted. "What do you say?"

Mako looked just as lost, but twice as determined; his breathing was just as short. "I've never been good with words," he warned her seriously, under heavy-lidded eyes.

But Korra's smile only grew.

"Babe... I'm not gonna keep you around to _talk_."

* * *

(And on that one night, Mako _did _learn

just how low she could blow.)


	23. of drunken phone calls (Part I)

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed. **  
Word Count: **832**  
Author's Notes: **3_/3/13_. Taking a nice, quick break from the drama that's going on in _gray skies ahead_ right now. It's such a good feeling to be so close to the end, but TON really helps with the comic relief. :P Also, I'm heading off to Portland, Oregon tomorrow for spring break! I might post another chapter or two before I leave, but... We'll see!

**Gifted To: **_likeabirdinflight _(again!)_  
_

* * *

**That one night**

___of drunken phone calls._ (Part I)___  
_

* * *

"No," Shaozu held up a stern finger. "Tahno, _no_."

Ming nodded solemnly from behind. When he was convinced that the knots binding Tahno's wrists were secure enough, he stepped back, leaving an _ucoordinated-and-writhing_ Tahno struggling against his restraints in the chair. "We're doing this for your own good."

"You assholes!" Tahno spat, managing a ferocious swipe of a kick that nearly took out Shaozu's left knee-cap; they looked down, unimpressed. Tahno snarled in response. "Get me the fuck out of here!"

"Not until we can be sure that you won't be making any poor decisions."

"_Do you know who I am?"_ he raged. "_The only decisions I make are poor ones!_"

"This isn't undergrad anymore," Ming explained reverently. He and Shaozu shared a collective sigh to mourn. "You can't just call up college girls anymore like any regular old booty call."

Tahno glared. "Says the one who still refers to it as a _booty call_! And who the fuck said anything about calling for one, anyway?"

"Texting also applies."

"I wasn't talking about texting!" Tahno snapped. "I'm not new to the twenty-first century! _God_." His head was splitting. His friends were morons. Were they his friends? He didn't remember referring to them as such while sober. He'd have to get rid of them. They were more trouble than they were worth. Why did he keep them around again? "I'm not a child—I can monitor my own texts, you crazy motherfuckers! Let me out!"

"Until we can be reasonably assured that you can restrain yourself, I'm afraid we'll just have to let these ropes do it for you."

"Where—" (Struggling.) "—the _hell_—" (Wrangling.) "—did you even _find_—?" (Cursing.)

"Maybe if we transcribe his message for him?"

"Yes, which certainly shouldn't be a problem, considering the fact that I'm not nearly as drunk as you seem to think I am! I'm clearly capable of expressing how thoroughly I'm going to skin you both come morning for what you've done to me!"

"You've always had a silver tongue, Tahno; alcohol just ups the value."

"Yes, you've always been a very eloquent drunk."

"Don't forget sober, too."

"Really? You think so? I've always found that rather debatable."

"_You assholes_—"

"Fine," Ming's nostrils flared. "Just tell us who you were about to message or whatever, and we'll see. Consider this a test."

"That's none of your business!"

"So, I don't suppose we'll be needing to charge your phone, then... Perhaps I'll just turn all of the apps on and stick it in the one corner of your apartment without service until it sucks your battery dry..."

"_Wait_—wait, Ming, _no_. Ming, I fucking swear I'll—_Ming_! Stop!"

"Then _spill_. Who were you planning to drunk text?"

"You _motherfu_—no, _no_, okay, just stop, you _fucking_—fine! _Fine_! Just my stupid intern!" Tahno roared, straining against his holds. Ming and Shaozu stiffened. "And for the last time, I'm not—"

"Your intern?" Shaozu murmured. "That young Master's student?"

"The—_what_?—hey, she's not—she's not _that _young, okay, and—yes, all right, _yes_, I was going to text my intern—"

"On a _Saturday night_?" Shaozu challenged, as he and Ming shared an _oh yeah, likely story _look right in front of him. Steam escaped his nostrils like a bull. "What are you hoping to accomplish with _that?_"

"Do you have any idea how fucking behind I am with work now, thanks to her? She has the _gall _to not show up at the lab on a _Friday_—without _any_ decent sort of notice—on a day that she _knows_ is one of our busiest workloads, and—and _she didn't even_—and all I get for all the trouble she causes me is—so the little thorn in my side better remember all the shit that she owes me next week and on _Monday_—well, she'd better be there _early_, and with absolutely none of that _fifteen minutes late with coffee _crap and—and she'd sure as hell better not expect to leave _any_ earlier than—_what? _What the hell you lookin' at?"

They blinked.

"Hey... Hey, cut that out—would you—would you _stop _fucking looking at me like that?"

"Oh, shit," Shaozu said under his breath.

"Agreed," Ming murmured, watching Tahno nearly topple his chair over in fury. "This is _much _worse than we thought."

* * *

The morning came and, sure enough, he was out of coffee by eleven. The two lightweighted bastards were still sleeping, so when Tahno took the scenic walking route to go get more—_fucking_ _snow with its fucking brightness and its fucking cold—_he left a note on the counter. His post-it missive offered them a grudging thanks—_don't think I owe you guys, or anything, but you can fucking expect me to return the favor one day, I'm warning you right now_—and a short and sweet: _now_ _please show yourselves the fuck out. _


	24. they were at an impasse

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed. **  
Word Count: **2,104**  
Author's Notes: **3_/10/13_. I'm back!

**Gifted To: **_anonymous__  
_

* * *

**That one night**

___they were at an impasse.____  
_

* * *

Eventually, Monday arrived.

By mid-afternoon, Tahno was practically an open nerve. This time, he'd brought no beverages of any kind into the office—though he _did_ spend ten minutes agonizing in the parking lot of the coffee shop down the street, not that he'd ever admit it—and now he was hunched over the paperwork at his desk, working much harder at _appearing _focused rather than doing any of the actual focusing, itself. The clock on the wall was typically silent, but today the ticks all but hammered against the glass beakers, leaving ringing sounds blaring through his ears. The slightest _blip _of a bubble bursting from the other room would send him rocketing into all kinds of internal disarray, and fling his staccato heart into a rhythm that was at _least_ three times too fast; at this rate, this stupid, insignificant, little girl was quite literally going to be the death of him.

But eventually, the charade grew easier to pull off, and soon he was so engrossed in pretending to be engrossed that he didn't notice his intern standing over him until: "Afternoon, Professor Tight-Pants."

The amused voice rolled across skin, and he froze. (No, literally. Things just _stopped_.) Then Tahno took a deep breath, carefully schooled his expression into something bored and unreadable, and looked up.

But she was already settling in at the couch and arranging her paperwork over the coffee table; she'd stolen that too, almost three weeks ago. He'd almost forgotten about that.

"That's _it_?" he asked, before he could appropriately bludgeon himself into silence.

Korra spared him a brief glance, with one crooked brow raised high, and then nestled deeper into the couch. She extended one long arm over the armrest and down to the floor, where she retrieved her to-go cup. "What's it?" she asked, like she didn't know _exactly_ what he was talking about. _At least she's still a terrible liar._

"You're not even gonna say anything?"

Korra blinked. "Excuse me?"

"About the other night," he gestured. _Oh, shit. _"You're... you're not—?"

"I'm sorry," she said slowly, obviously confused. "Did you _want_ a lecture?"

"I didn't say that," he snapped back immediately. "I just expected—I mean. I just _expected _you to—"

"What?" she retorted crisply. "No, really. It's all right. Go ahead, Tahno. Tell me: what did you _expect_?"

He swallowed, and bit his tongue.

_Well. This is going as splendidly as I'd imagined._

"Look, Professor Tight-Pants," she said with a sigh. He was still wracking his brain for something to say, but inspiration simply wouldn't strike. (Though perhaps that was for the best, because if one of the argument-muses _did _strike, then _she _might, too.) "I figured it'd be in both of our best interests to just let it go. Water under the bridge and all that."

_Say something_, his mind urged. _Say—_ "Don't you think that nickname's getting a little old?"

Her face darkened. "You're lucky I mentioned your pants at all, considering their whereabouts the last time I saw you."

_Dammit! _"That's not what I meant to—ah, fuck it, that's not what I meant to say, all right? I just meant—"

"Look," Korra cut in decisively. "It happened. I asked you not to bring your little adventures back to my apartment, but you did. Just don't let it happen again. Drop it, okay?"

And to make her point, she pointedly turned back to the notebook in her lap and began scanning the notes. But he couldn't drop it. Not like that.

"Fine," he spat. "But don't forget that _you're_ the one who told me to do something!" Her expression turned murderous. _Shit._

"I didn't mean on my _couch."_

"This is stupid!" Tahno groaned in frustration, while Korra glared daggers. "Just tell me what I'm supposed to do!"

"_Me?_ I'm not responsible for your actions! Figure it out yourself!"

"That's not what I—that's not what I _meant_! Look, all I want—_fucking hell_—I just want to know how—"

"Holy fucking crackers, Tahno—out with it! What in the hell are you trying to say?"

"I'm fucking _trying_ to apologize!"

Korra blinked, and he felt the realization of what he'd just said steadily creep over him like a slow-rolling wave of desperation; his seething anger deflated with each deep, panting breath, and was replaced with the slow-burning heat of humiliation. He didn't _do _humiliation. Tahno's tongue was already wrapped around another scorching deflection—_well, if you hadn't come home so early—_

But then she went and surprised him. Again.

She laughed.

"You idiot," she smirked. Out of nowhere, she chucked a crumpled ball of paper toward him, which hit him square in the nose. He'd had masterful hand-eye coordination back in the day, skills that weren't too shabby even now, but he was so caught off guard that he hadn't even seen it coming. Confusion wrapped itself around his features, and when he looked up, perplexed, Korra was _still_ laughing at him... This annoyed him, but on a very distant level, in a very quiet space inside his mind. Her laughter continued, but her smile was soft—warm, even.

And, all things considered, Tahno decided that things could have gone much worse.

* * *

"Look, I think I've heard you grovel enough for one day—"

"I do _not_—"

"But I still want you to answer me one question: why _my_ apartment?" Korra asked curiously, glancing up from the book resting against her upturned knees.

Sometime not too long ago, she'd taken it upon herself—_for the sake of proper space utilization, duh, Tahno_—to lay herself out along the couch completely. Strands of her chaotic ponytail hung over the armrest every which way—the long, dark tendrils covertly marking her territory—and her bare feet had tucked themselves into one of the crevices between the cushions, obscuring her toes under the warmth of the ugly fabric. The wretched red hoodie was thankfully missing in action, tossed and clumped unceremoniously into a makeshift pillow beneath her head, which meant that she could work more comfortably in the warm lab in her simple t-shirt—and without the dreadful bulk of such a hideous color. Without meaning to, he glanced once more at the small slip of skin between the rise of her jeans and the navy blue cotton, where the shirt had rode too high from her endless shifting along the couch—_blue, _he thought urgently, distractedly, pinpointing a small metal button at the corner of her left pocket. _Blue, it's—it's obviously a much more fitting—_

"Hey, earth to Professor Tight-Pants."

_What? _

"What?" Korra rolled her eyes, effectively dismissing his selective hearing; apparently, she was used to being tuned out. Tahno tried not to feel annoyed, though he didn't see why he _should_.

"Why my apartment? Why didn't you just go to yours, like usual?"

"That's a useless question."

"Yeah, and I want to know."

Tahno's eyes narrowed. "All right, fine," he snipped. "Yours was closer."

"Really," she sat up, turned herself toward him, and revealed an even wider slice of smooth, dark skin. Not that he noticed. "You reneged on our truce because of _locational convenience_?"

"Hey, I never—okay, listen, we were already downtown, so we would've had to backtrack to bring her back. Plus, it was late. I mean, really. Be reasonable."

"Oh, right," she said dryly, gesturing stiffly with her pen. "I forgot: _safety first_."

"Oh, come on," he groaned, barely believing himself for what he was about to say. "The only reason I even considered your apartment usable was because Asami was _convinced_ that you were off fooling around with that Mako creep."

He paused. _Should this __feel__ like a confession or...?_

But Korra barked out laughter, shaking him from his unsettling thoughts. "No," she said firmly, still laughing, which made him feel a little better, until— "Not Thursday night, at least."

...

...

_... what_.

Tahno deadpanned. "You're kidding."

She shrugged, and then ducked her head down, doodling intently into the notebook in her lap. She looked like she was hiding her face. Her smirk. _What?_

"So..." Tahno began, feeling slightly stunned. "So, what... you're together now, or something?"

"I wouldn't say _together_ is the right word," she said distantly, smiling more to herself than speaking to him. The words sounded just a little too familiar, like he'd played this scene before. He didn't like it. _What does she mean by that?_

"But you're seeing him now, then?" he asked, mustering all the nonchalance he could find; he used to be so _good_ at haughty aloofness... there had to be some still left in there somewhere. "Douche personality, and all?"

Her head cocked to the side, minutely, like she was digging around inside his head, and then before he knew it she had plopped back down onto the couch and returned her gaze to her ballpoint pen, watching it twirl over her fingers in the way that she _knew _annoyed him. "I don't see how you're really in any position to talk. You may be kindred douche spirits, but you hardly know him."

"So you admit he's a douche?"

"Every day," she announced. "Often to his face."

Tahno blinked. This was not necessarily a side of her he expected to see. _I mean, I know that __we__ often—that is, she and I—_

"And he's okay with this?"

Korra's head lifted up an inch and she turned questioning, curious eyes toward his. She still looked amused, and that bothered him. _Reel it in, star player, you're not in undergrad anymore—pull yourself together. Game face! _"What?" she challenged through a smile, digging one elbow into the cushion as she leaned forward, facing him more fully. "You think you and Asami are the only ones who have the right to be casual?"

He winced so hard he saw spots. Or maybe he'd almost gagged. He couldn't tell. "Our idea of casual does not usually entail such charming _tête-à-têtes_."

"Oh, trust me, I've _seen _your idea of casual. Firsthand."

He scowled. It's not like he could argue with that.

"Hey," she shrugged, laughing again, this time at his obvious disgust. "I've got to put up with all your crazy somehow, don't I?"

No. _No_. That idea did _not_ sit well with him, it did not. He was not playing any part of this cause-and-effect nightmare. "So you combat charisma with commonplace?" he scathed. "Tell me, how _does_ one manage such a large, lunkhead cretin, anyway? I'm sure he can't be very easy to transport, even with all that empty space up top. What do you store up there?" he crossed his arms. "Car keys? Imported coffee beans? Perhaps a list of better life decisions you've decided to ignore?"

"Look, I get it: you don't like him, he doesn't like you—_at all_—but you're both forgetting something very important."

"And what is that?"

"The fact that _I_ don't particularly like either of you, anyway," she smirked.

"Hey, do _not _try to lump me together with—"

"Listen here, pretty boy," she sighed, impatience wearing thin. "I'm a busy girl, and I've got needs, so here's a new deal, one that you will _not_ break: keep your conquests out of my apartment, and I'll keep my rendezvous to myself. Oh! Would you look at that, they're both things we were planning to do,_ anyway_... Settled, then?"

Her tone made it clear that the conversation was over; an athlete he'd been and an athlete he still was, and his instincts were telling him that there would be no more ground given today.

"Fine," he muttered, forcefully. "Whatever." With a flourish, he turned back to the paperwork on his desk, decidedly ignoring the infuriating presence across the room. His pen scritched and scratched illegible words in the too-small margins and wove sloppy arrows that would no doubt be worthless later. His intern tended to _hmm _in thought, or clack her pen along the metal spiral of her notepad, or even, sometimes—and this was the _worst_—start singing under her breath, probably without even realizing it. Tahno usually put an end to this nonsense before it even began, but today... he just couldn't seem to muster the energy.

(Because, in truth, Tahno knew they hadn't settled anything.)

* * *

It didn't take long for Tahno to realize that this Monday was quickly becoming totally and utterly useless; on the one hand, his intern was especially motivated today, and even managed to accomplish twice the workload she normally generated after a weekend, which—_technically_—more than made up for the loss on Friday. But on the other hand?

Tahno's eyes hardly left the pages in front of him the whole afternoon and yet, somehow, it still ended up being his most unproductive session to date.


	25. on the kitchen floor

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed. **  
Word Count: **980  
**Author's Notes: **___3/11/12____. _No real prompt for this one. This is purely for Alison's love of all things Korra/Asami bromance. And she makes me want them to actually be decent friends to one another, too. D:)_  
_

**Gifted To:** _ebonyquill  
_(Love you!)_**  
**_

* * *

**That one night  
**

_on the kitchen floor.  
_

* * *

Korra stiffened when she felt a chin drop gently onto her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Asami murmured into the red hood scrunched around her neck. The tiniest trace of a smile attacked the corners of Korra's lips, and when Asami leaned closer in to catch a glimpse, Korra lost control and had to turn away. She rolled her eyes for good measure, but to no avail; she was caught. "I aaam," Asami pleaded, knowing full well that the worst was over. She trapped Korra's shoulders in her arms and when Korra struggled and tried to break away, Asami only wrapped her arms around her more tightly. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm _sorry_," she begged, burying her face even deeper into the red, love-worn fabric of their alma mater... and Korra might even have stood a chance, if not for the fact that every apology was punctuated by another fervent nudge of Asami's nose to the space above Korra's clavicle, which meant that her ticklish spots were simply no match. "I've apologized so many times!" Asami continued, as Korra finally cried out and tried slapping, scratching, and wrestling the hands away; unfortunately, all she succeeded in doing was making herself laugh even harder and completely ruining the already-minimal level of organization to the class notes she'd arranged over the small kitchen table. "Korra, please, please, _please_ don't still be mad. Please, please, please, please—"

"_Asami_!"

"Please, please—"

"Ah—Asami!" Korra finally broke free. (She'd had to launch herself from the chair in order to do it, of course.) Korra backed herself against the counter at the sink, and held out a halting hand to try and maintain some distance between them; Asami was still leaning over the back of the kitchen chair a few feet away, but Korra didn't trust that illusion of safety for a second. (Asami could be a sneaky one, and she was _fast._) When she finally caught most of her breath, she looked across the open space above the stained and splotchy hardwood. "Asami, I wasn't mad."

Asami leveled her with a mere look.

"_Korra._"

"Okay, fine," she grumbled, crossing her arms. "Yeah, I was. I was _pissed_, but only because I was so caught off guard. I mean, it was one thing when I would walk in on you and Iroh, or even that guy with all the random-ass cabbages—"

"Korra! It was a _family business_," she hissed. "And I told you to never speak of him again!"

She smiled as she ducked a flying eraser, and this time Korra didn't bother to hold back her smirk. "Or what about that Hasook guy that you dated from my oceanography course freshman year?" (Duck.) "He was quite the keeper. Or maybe that shady guy—" (Duck, dodge, _drop_.) "What was his name again? _Shady_—shady something, right? Isn't that what I called him? Shady—_ow_!" Korra curled in on herself, nursing her left shin. There would be a bruise there tomorrow. "Asami!"

But Asami merely cackled. The hard floor was digging into Korra's hip, but her roommate didn't seem to mind, rocking and rolling all over the ground as she was. Her pouting lip jutted farther, and she shoved her roommate hard enough to send her tumbling, but by now Asami barely noticed because she was practically roaring with delight. "Just typical," Korra huffed, crawling over to poke Asami's shaking shoulder. "You're a frickin' maniac and your laughter _still_ sounds like bells."

She should have seen it coming, but by then it was no use; when Asami reached over and pulled Korra's shoulder down onto the kitchen floor beside her, Korra couldn't even put up a fight. Down she went with an _oof! _and an _ugh! _and: _Asami, if you give me another splinter, so help me—_

"I guess I've dated some pretty disappointing characters, haven't I?" Asami sighed, sending shockwaves of exhaustion all the way down Korra's spine. It wasn't the most comfortable position—they normally had the sense to at least do this in the living room—but Asami's warm shoulder was pressed against hers, and truthfully, she didn't want to move. Korra sighed, too.

"I liked Iroh," she offered quietly, sending a sidelong glance to her left; Asami caught it with a very familiar look. "But you already know that."

"Yeah," Asami breathed deeply, staring up at the ceiling. "I know."

Many things passed between them. The warmth shared from one shoulder to the next. Memories of break-ups and hook-ups and ice cream. Too late nights with too many movies and never enough pillows. Old rooms, dorm rooms, living rooms, bathrooms, and now, even the kitchen floor.

_This is gonna be okay, _Korra thought to herself, studying Asami's profile carefully. _We've been through weirder shit than this. Right? _

"Hey, Korra?"

She could feel herself frowning, but found it impossible to stop. "Yeah?"

Asami hesitated, which was almost never a good sign. She opened her mouth once, closed it, and opened it again. Korra's senses went on alert. But finally, Asami sighed and leaned back, letting her head gently drop back onto the old floor. Korra tried to tell herself that this wasn't unusual... but she was already feeling a strange kind of loss.

"I'm sorry, Korra. I know it's weird because he's your supervisor, and... I shouldn't have brought him over, especially after you asked me not to."

"Hey," Korra said softly, shifting closer. "Look, it's over with. It's no—"

"I'm sorry," Asami whispered, eyeing her roommate seriously, and surprising Korra into silence.

She couldn't remember the last time Asami had looked at her like that.

"I promise you," she smiled a sad, sheepish smile. "It won't happen again."

* * *

And her promise rang true.

It didn't.


	26. Tahno paid for his obliviousness

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed. **  
Word Count: **1,188  
**Author's Notes: **_____3/14/12____. _Soooooo, I'm cheating by doubling up. :P This is both for TON and for the _**30 Day Tahnorra Challenge**_ currently taking place on tumblr. It's for _Day #4: On a Date_. (I may or may not be taking seriously artistic liberties with the interpretation of the prompt.)

**Gifted To:** _Cheyenne & shoeninja  
_(Thank you for sparking our fandom back into creativity!)_**  
**_

* * *

**That one night  
**

_Tahno paid for his obliviousness.  
_

* * *

"That can't be right," she muttered, squinting at the date on her cellphone's screen.

But it was; somehow, while Korra hadn't been paying attention, time had inexplicably drifted into March. _Figures. I start to feel grounded just as soon as the semester starts coming to an end._

Perhaps it wasn't a total surprise, though, what with just barely—_passing!_—finishing midterms, preparing for the lab's upcoming research ventures out into the field—_swamps!_—not to mention that huge conference that Tahno had coming up, _plus_ his dissertation defense... Tahno was becoming more and more like a skittish cat every week, unpredictable and territorial and, strangely enough, prone to taking naps in the strangest of places. (She once found him sleeping under his desk, but she wasn't even going to _start_ on that one... Though, she did wonder why she never found him on what she considered to be a perfectly good couch.)

To be perfectly honest, with everything that was going on—_swamped!_—it was a miracle she managed to scrape by at all.

Speaking of.

"Oops."

Korra was already at the register by the time she realized that what her fingers were scraping at the bottom of her wallet was absolutely nothing at all.

Tahno heaved a sigh.

"Airhead," he chided, reaching into his own wallet once more. "I'll buy, but don't get used to it."

Korra smiled wide, all cheeks. "Thank you, Professor Tight-Pants, sir!" Her arm swooped down and scooped up the pint of ice cream with impressive speed. "Whoah, look at all that green in there... That's funny, I always took for you for a plasticky kind of guy."

Tahno glared. "I'd say that I'm unimpressed with your display of gratitude, but I suppose I should know better by now."

"Sorry," she quipped, but this time she had the grace to look at least a little contrite. "Asami always gets on my case about that, too... I swear she'd lock me up and torture me with socialite classes for weeks if she had her way... as if it'd do any good," Korra snickered.

Tahno watched with morbid fascination as she tore open the plastic film protecting her ice cream with her teeth. "Charming," he drawled.

"Oh, lighten up," she nudged, poking his elbow with hers. (However, his words did cause Korra's plans to quickly change course: she decided to wait until after they got back to the lab to bring out the plastic spoon she'd snagged from the service stand by the garbage cans. Just in case.) "I said thank you, didn't I? And I really do mean it. Look, stingy, I'll even buy yours next time!"

"With the lint in your little pennies purse? How generous of you."

"Hey, no need for rudeness, you snob," she made a face. She hoped he could see it properly in the light cast off from the fluorescent signs; his exasperated stare told her success. "You know, half the time I wonder if Asami has ever actually seen this slimy side of you. I bet _she_ doesn't get nasty, pretentious comments when she tries to offer up a kind deed... oh, for—_really_, Tahno?" She grumbled as they walked along the dirt path below the arch of wild, barely-managed bushes. "Never mind, you sleaze. Don't answer that."

"I didn't even say anything," he protested.

"You insinuated it with your _eyes_."

Tahno considered this. "I suppose that's possible. I'm often told I have that power."

Korra glared. "Let me guess: did my roommate tell you that?"

As he reached out and held back a low-hanging branch for them to pass through, he glibly replied, "Your roommate tells me many things."

"Ugh, forget I said anything."

"Believe me, I try."

_You know what? To hell with caution._ If she was going to survive the evening, she'd better be prepared; Korra whipped out the plastic spoon from her red hoodie's pocket and ripped off the lid, digging right on in through the journey up the steps leading to the science building. The container was cold in her hands—_Why did we buy this again? In March? At dusk?_—but she ignored the chill and kept shoveling to her heart's content.

Once the sugar had achieved her a certain level of calm, Korra glanced to the side, stamping down the sudden defensiveness that had risen to the surface. "Seriously, though," she eyed him, and the undercurrents in her tone demanded a response. "I'm obviously gonna pay you back."

Unfortunately, somewhere in the in-between, her resolve had gotten shaky; Korra tried not to think about how her voice had just sounded, like a little of her wounded feelings had just slipped through. She'd wanted to sound convincing—_Does he really think that little of me? Am I really just some sort of leech to him?_—and... well.

Tahno halted at the doorway and looked down at her in surprise. _Ahh, great._ She seized the opportunity of the open door and slipped right past him, forcing herself to keep up her regular stride as she approached the sanctuary of her couch. She could hear Tahno place his own bag of groceries down on his desk—_it's so messy, even messier than usual_—and could sense him shuffling uncomfortably behind her. _Well played, Korra, as always._ She spun back around—runaway-coins from the bottom of her backpack in hand—and it was a good thing that her mouth was already halfway ready to speak anyway because it probably would have dropped open from shock.

Tahno was close—much closer than one could consider their usual sort of _close_, Korra's addled mind registered distantly, as blaring sirens echoed from the farthest corners of her mind—and he was looking right down at her, and at the quarters and dimes and nickles in her hand but—_What is he thinking?_ Korra wondered.

(What she wouldn't give for a penny, she thought blandly.)

"You know what?" he said abruptly, shifting back. Korra blinked up at him, the coins still held aloft in her upturned palm. "Forget about it."

"But..." Korra's brows drew together. She stared down at the money in her hand. "Really, it's not a big—"

"No," he said firmly, and for reasons that Korra couldn't entirely explain, she stopped. He licked his lips thoughtfully, and then: "Consider it... _my_ display of gratitude."

A small, tentative smile spread across Korra's face. "Yeah?"

Immediately, Tahno stiffened. "Hey. I said don't get used to it. This is a rare occasion, so savor it."

Korra's smile grew cheeky, but her voice remained soft and light. "And if I say I'm unimpressed?"

"Then I'll simply bestow my highly-coveted gifts upon those who show a tad more appreciation upon receiving them."

Korra outright laughed and flounced onto the couch, effectively breaking the tension. Tahno huffily made his way back to his desk, ignoring her laughter all the while, but eventually... it died down. With as much of a brave face as she could muster, she said, "Well... thank goodness you have Asami, then."

By the time he looked up, she was already digging back into her ice cream, but that didn't mean she didn't see:

Tahno's only response was a frown.

* * *

(Though... that might have just been her imagination.)


	27. shit got complicated

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed. **  
Word Count: **2,216  
**Author's Notes: **4_/6/13. _First 5K of the road race season tomorrow! :) I'm hoping it will give me a boost of inspiration for _Personal Record_, but here's some mostly-lighthearted melodrama to keep you occupied until then.

**Gifted To:** _anonymous!_

* * *

**That one night**

_shit got complicated._

* * *

"What's that noise?"

"Ignore it," Korra ordered, recapturing Mako's attention with her mouth. "It's just Asami getting home from work."

"Ah," he breathed absently**,** promptly returning to his proper duties; Korra was delightfully surprised to see that this news had only barely fazed him.

After a moment, Korra paused. "Wait," she halted him, and Mako immediately huffed a breath of frustration. "Is she—talking to—someone?" she asked, in between the kisses being dotted along her jaw.

"She's probably just on the phone," he surmised, nipping at her ear, to which Korra gave a breathy sighof laughter. With a knowing smirk, he looked down at her rather pointedly, then dropped down to bring his mouth to her ear, where he huskily echoed, "Ignore it."

She didn't need to be told twice.

* * *

"I would, but your apartment's just so far away. Couldn't we meet somewhere closer?"

Tahno scowled into the cell phone, tipping the kitchen chair back until he was balancing on its two hind legs. "We'd still have to come back here, anyway," he reasoned.

"Well, I know, but—_oh. _Hold on."

A soft rustling from the other end told Tahno that she was moving about, and he could almost hear the sound of her jangling keys unlocking the door. Tahno waited patiently, tapping his pen against the edge of the kitchen tabletop. It wasn't really interesting enough for him to be staring at it as hard as he was, but what could he do? He couldn't stand to look at paperwork anymore, and there wasn't much else to look at in his apartment these days.

"All right, sorry about that," she said, in a much softer voice.

"What was that?"

"Korra's home... and it looks like she has a guest."

There was no mistaking her tone. Tahno's scowl deepened. "What's he doing there?"

"Well, from the looks of the courtesy bra hanging over the door handle—"

"Yeah, got it," Tahno ground out, yanking the phone away from his ear. "Never mind."

"Sorry," she said again, but this time with a laugh. "Supervisor-intern boundaries. I keep forgetting."

_Yeah_, Tahno thought morosely. He tossed the pen against the wall, and watched it clatter onto the floor. _Tell me about it._

"Has he been over often?"

"Ah, Tahno," Asami chided. "You know better than to compare his situation to yours."

"So she's seriously allowed to have _guests_, but not you?" he demanded, though he had no _real_ reason to feel so upset. (He didn't even like their apartment. It was too small, and the furniture was old.)

"Yeah, well, I still kind of owe her one after Valentine's Day," she sighed, and Tahno's stomach did that strange flipping maneuver again. "I apologized, like, a million times, but I know I'm not entirely off thin ice just yet, so I don't want to take any chances. Plus, she's always been so lenient with me, and it's time I repaid the favor... besides," Asami added pointedly, with a hint of suggestion. "She actually keeps her business behind closed doors."

_Business_, Tahno's mind echoed. _Business_.

"I'm glad she's finally got him though—shes been crushing on him the whole year, practically."

He didn't really want to hear any of this; he _really _didn't want to hear any of this. "Well, it's a good thing I'm a decent supervisor and stay out of my interns' lives," he intoned dryly.

"Pffft, please. You're such a gossip."

"What's that supposed to—"

"Though, you know, I was actually thinking the other day about how nice it would be for us to all go out together."

"Wait. What?"

"You know," she hummed. "Like a double date."

"They're not dating," he replied immediately, eyes narrowing.

"Yeah," she laughed into the receiver; he could hear her smirk at the other end of the line. "And neither are we."

* * *

"Hey. I was thinking..."

_Oh, god. I thought we'd already gone over this._

"I mean," he continued, not ever once breaking his momentum; his hands were still trailing down her back. "You already know that I had a thing for your roommate."

Korra slowly lifted her head up. She shot a quick glance to the strong, naked chest below her and cocked an impatient brow. "Is this really the best time for this?"

"Oh," Mako shifted over the mattress, looking uncomfortable. "Sorry, that didn't come out right. I was just wondering, well... you know about my romantic troubles, but I don't know anything about yours."

Korra couldn't believe it. She was half-naked and willing—Mako didwork out a ton_, _after all—and he wanted to talk _romance_?

"What's your point?"

Mako shrugged, and Korra felt herself grow distracted all over again. _What beautiful muscles. What solid, rippling, beautiful—_ "I'm just curious," he hedged, though his discomfort sent Korra spiraling back toward reality. "Can't I know about this other guy that you like?"

"Does it matter?"

Whether or not it did, Korra wasn't going to allow him a chance to answer; she swooped back down with a predatory smirk, targeting the space below his jaw and effectively exploiting all of the good intelligence she'd gained on his weaknesses—all of which had been acquired through hours and hours of extensive research over the last few days. Appropriately redirected, Mako gave up on their little chit-chat and resumed the wonderful work he'd been doing with his fingers—_long, warm, calloused_—moments before. She released a breathy sigh of success into his mouth and promptly felt the world spin; she was surprised, until a primal growl rattled her brain and made her realize that she'd literally been flung onto her back, actually _flipped_ by the gorgeous pair of arms encasing her into the mattress. _Now this is more like it_.

Mako nipped and sucked, testing and teasing, numbing Korra's mind in ways that made her think that, perhaps, she wasn't the only one cataloging certain kinds of weaknesses, and then—

He pulled back abruptly, wrenching his lips from hers with a panicked, wary look in his eyes. "It's not Bolin, is it?"

"_What?_"

Mako frowned. "It's a valid question."

"How so?" she asked flatly, rising up on her forearms to strengthen her glare.

Mako made a shrugging gesture and nodded his head, looking uncomfortable all over again. "Well," his voice dropped to just above a whisper. "You know."

Korra stared blankly.

"Since he likes you."

(What.)

"_What_?"

Mako looked at her; was that... smugness? "_Now_ who's oblivious."

"Hold on," Korra flew upward, almost knocking him over. They were nose-to-nose, but that was the furthest thing from her mind. _What a waste!_

"What are you saying? Are you telling me that Bolin actually-and you _knew_?" she demanded. "And you didn't say anything?"

Mako reared back at her accusatory finger. "I thought _you _knew. I figured you'd already talked to him about it or something, so I just went with it."

(Shock.) "But... but he's never said anything!"

"Does he have to?"

_What kind of question is that? _"Uhh—_yeah! _It would frickin' help!" She exclaimed hotly. Incredulously.

"What were you expecting? Bolin's a relatively open guy, but I think not saying anything has been kind of the point; he's had it in his mind the whole year that you liked somebody else, so he stayed quiet."

"Oh, shit," Korra muttered, rubbing her hands down her face. (It vaguely occurred to her that she still wasn't wearing a bra. Or a shirt.) "He knew it was you!"

"Yeah," Mako suddenly scowled, but it resembled more of a pout. "Though it's not like he ever bothered to tell me."

"Ah!" Korra exclaimed again. "He didn't say anything to anyone!"

"Biding his time, I bet."

"Dude, this is _so_ not the time for a bitter brotherly rivalry-thing."

"What?" he demanded defensively. "You gonna try to tell me I'm wrong?"

"No, I—that's not what I—ah, dammit," she groaned, letting her head fall back as frustration soared. (In a distant part of her mind, she could sense Mako's hungry eyes on her throat, her bare chest—propped by the strength in her arms.) "It's just that I told him recently—about how I was over you."

"Wait," Mako shifted forward. (She loved it when she could see the muscular cords of his throat at work, dancing just under the skin.) "You talked about this? You talked to _him _about this guy that you like?"

"No!" she snapped, rising up again. "I told him I wasn't into anyone!"

"So you're _not_ into anyone?"

"No, I'm—goddammit, I _am_, but I haven't told anyone and I don't even like it myself and it's definitely not Bolin!"

"Then you lied to him?"

"I—well—_fine! _Yeah, whatever, I lied to him about it, okay?"

"Well, fuck," Mako muttered, sitting back. He rubbed at his temple with the heel of his palm. "Then he'll probably start trying to pursue you again."

"Ah—_again_?"

"And I'm pretty sure he thinks he's been sending all the right signals, too."

Korra groaned aloud, collapsing back onto the pillows. "If I hear _one more thing _about these supposed signals..."

After a few moments of silence, Mako followed suit. His whole form fit snugly against her side, and she had to admit—even if only privately—that she kind of liked the way he was looking down at her, with his head propped up on his hand like that. She didn't even mind when Mako began playing with her ponytail. _Great_, she thought miserably, because for all her sudden guilt over everything, she still felt... good. She couldn't bring herself to regret this arrangement with Mako, as basic and frivolous as it was. _Hey_, she thought, defensively. _I 'm allowed to have needs. Right?_

She lounged back, feeling the chilled skin of her shoulder against Mako's warm chest, and met his gaze. "Don't you have some kind of brotherly code against this sort of thing?"

He considered this, absently brushing the hair away from her face. "Not that I know of," Mako shrugged. "Though it's not like I've really brought it up..."

Korra groaned again.

"Does this mean we have to stop seeing each other now?" he asked, a hint of worry to his tone.

Korra paused, biting her lip. She replied honestly. "I don't _want _to stop."

Mako brightened, though in his defense, he seemed like he was trying to not be too obvious about it. "I don't either," he admitted.

She leveled him with a look, but he gave one right back. She gave his shoulder a little shove; he nudged her with his hips, pushing and rolling her to the side. She gave an incredulous little breath of laughter, and punched his chest; he smirked in challenge and—rather audaciously—gave the side of her nose a teasing swat. _Oh, no, you didn't—_but he did, and the next thing she knew, they were wrestling over the bouncy mattress, tearing apart the already unmade bed and—it was fun, Korra realized. It was easy. It was simple.

Mostly.

"Ah, hey, watch it, watch—watch—watch it—_ugh_," Mako groaned, as they finished toppling to the floor. Luckily, he'd broken her fall.

"Oh, god," Korra laughed breathlessly, ruffling his hair with her fingers as she leaned forward to assess the damage. As she checked the top of his head for any bumps and bruises, he caught her chest with his face, effectively earning a rather un-Korra-like squeal of laughter as he claimed one breast with his tongue. It's not that she didn't appreciate his craftsmanship; they just had a conversation to finish.

(She'd meant to distract him with her mouth, but... well.

It wasn't the first time one of her plans backfired, and it wouldn't be the last.)

* * *

"And here I thought we were actually decent people," she commented some time later, as they laid themselves over the covers strewn across the floor.

Mako examined one of the knuckles he was kissing with solemn confusion. He brushed his thumb over the valleys and hills, and asked, "Aren't we?"

Korra sighed, blowing out her bangs, and admitted, "I'm not so sure anymore." And then, more quietly: "I guess we're both assholes."

She felt his hand squeeze hers.

"We're allowed to want this, you know."

She smiled, but it was tainted. "Yeah? And what happens when you want too much at once?"

He laughed, though she really wasn't sure why. Korra pouted, but Mako merely gave her another nudge.

"Yeah, okay," he teased. "Like that's stopped you before."

A skeptic brow raised high, but a ghost of a smirk played at her lips. "I feel like there's a challenge in there somewhere."

"There wasn't, but I'm not surprised you found one, anyway."

"Why, _you_—"

(And it's like she said:

It wouldn't be the last.)

* * *

"So... you're really not gonna tell me?"


	28. Tahno spilled his coffee (Part I)

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed. **  
Word Count: **521  
**Author's Notes: **4_/7/13. _5K went wonderfully! I even beat my personal record. ;) (Too bad I won't be writing any PR for a little while, haha.) I'm on a writing marathon for _That One Night_, so I'll post them as they come to me.

**Gifted To:** _miilehlo_

* * *

**That one night  
**  
_Tahno spilled his coffee. _(Part I)

* * *

_"Kiss me."_

_"...what?"_

Tahno surreptitiously cleared his throat, and took another careful sip. He stared at the words below, but they merely floated around the page.

_"It's New Year's... It's bad luck if you don't."_

The dark liquid burned his throat long after it had been swallowed down. It was his second cup of the day, and he really should have called it quits by now—he felt restless, jumpy, unusually alert—but he couldn't seem to stop; it gave him something else to do.

Tahno bit his cheek, glancing up.

The coffee table was stacked with all sorts of tedious things, and his intern was lounging away on the couch, squinting her entire focus into the tiny lines of a document that she held above her face. It couldn't have been comfortable.

He looked back down to his own paperwork, feeling the itch in his skin more than ever. He couldn't sit still. The styrofoam cup felt rubbery against his mouth.

_"You're not going to try to hit me again, are you?" _

_This was a bad idea. This was a terrible idea. He had no idea what he was still doing there, or why hadn't yet bothered to shut his mouth. He was supposed to be her supervisor; she was his intern, his assistant fresh out of undergrad—the roommate of the woman he was fucking on the weekends—and according to some abstract rules of society or whatever, he was supposed to be the responsible one. She was going to have to work with this girl for the rest of the year, to keep trusting her with his life's research, to keep seeing her every day, sprawled over her couch, wearing that stupid—_

_"You're safe for now, I guess," she whispered through a smirk, and he could feel the wisps of breath against his lips. Her eyes were hooded, lids growing heavy. "I just wouldn't linger in any parking lots... if I were you." _

_Four, three—_

(_Fuck it._)

_"No promises," he whispered back, throat thick beneath his smile; she didn't need to know all that he'd really meant by that. _(_Just one kiss. One kiss wouldn't hurt. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt._)

_Two—_

_And for most of it, it was barely a kiss at all; it was the kind of kiss he could feel every millisecond along the way; the kind where he could feel the other person even before he touched them; where the electricity beforehand was so intense that the actual contact sent a jolt all the way down to his toes, all the way into his brain, curling around his spine; where the heat seared into the skin of his lips, and left an invisible mark. It lasted now more than a second or two, but he could still feel it, even after she pulled back, when their noses were just barely touching. He could still feel it, even when his focus was entirely on her eyes—still closed—and the soft sigh that escaped her amidst the cheering crowds echoing throughout the many rooms. He could still feel it, right there, because she had pulled back but not away, and—_

"Hey, Profe—"

"Ah!—_fuck._"


	29. Tahno spilled his coffee (Part II)

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed. **  
Word Count: **2,230  
**Author's Notes: **4_/7/13. _Still having too much fun.

**Gifted To: **_miilehlo_

* * *

**That one night **  
_Korra was Tahno's knight in shining armor._

_… __or when Tahno spilled his coffee._ (Part II)

* * *

"Fuck," he repeated. _Hot! Fucking—hot!_

"_Holy_—yikes, Tahno! What the hell are you doing over there?"

Tahno sent a scathing glare toward his intern; the last person he needed assistance from was his assistant. "No concern of yours," he muttered moodily under his breath.

"Look at you," Korra commented with a sigh, leaning down to examine his ruined shirt.

"What the—" he exclaimed, swatting away her hand from the lapel of his shirt. "How the hell did you move so—?

"Figures," she interrupted, rocking back onto her heels. "Only _you _could spill your coffee out of a to-go cup."

_Funny_, he glared. That might have been something he might have normally said about her, "Yeah, well," he grumbled, futilely trying to dab at the stains with a stray napkin. "They sure as hell don't make 'em like the used to."

"What?" Korra laughed. "The shirts? Or coffee cups?"

He considered this, shrewdly eyeing the brown splotches seeping into the threads. "Both."

"Whatever," she smirked, crossing her arms and watching him attempt a fool's task. "You should write a scathing letter, demanding that they bring back the glory products from the olden' times of your youth."

Tahno scowled. He wasn't _that _old.

"Yes, I'll be sure to do that, what with all the copious free time I have at my disposal."

"Well, I hope you have enough free time to buy another shirt, because that one is beyond all hope. And of all the days, too."

"It's fine," he snapped, digging deeper with the napkin.

Korra didn't look so sure. "Fine enough for that meeting you have with Tenzin in twenty minutes?"

"What meet—oh, _fuck_."

"That's what I thought," Korra sighed in exasperation. "That's what I called over to you for in the first place, to remind you that you're meeting with my godfather and his associate to go over your conference notes because, of course, you'd never remember yourself."

"_Fuck," _Tahno spat, staring down at the taut fabric beneath his fingertips. He couldn't meet with his supervisor looking like this! "Of all the days—"

"Already said so."

He rounded on her, eyes fierce. "Not helping, _intern_."

"Well, what am I supposed to do? Don't you have any spare shirts laying around somewhere? Your car, maybe?"

"Why the hell would I pack extra clothes for work?"

"I don't know—for clumsy shit like this!"

"I am not clumsy!"

"Tell that to your shirt!"

Tahno's scowl deepened; he was only wasting time. His hands ran through the waves in his hair, clutching them tightly in an effort to curtail the full-out rage he could feel blooming. He rose quickly, pacing the floor behind his desk. "I mean, it'd be one thing if it were just Tenzin," he mumbled to himself, thinking out loud. "But he's bringing the department head with him—"

"Wait. Who's the department head?"

His grimace turned rueful. "Well, technically, it's this guy who studies paralysis, but... He's under investigation for some sketchy business with the physical therapy department, and the interim just happens to be his brother."

"Who's his—"

"Tarrlok," Tahno groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. "The creepy guy with the rats."

"_Tarrlok_?" she exclaimed. "From the blood lab?"

"He got a promotion this semester, and he's already started making changes in the department," he said shortly, digging even deeper into the drying splotches. "Ridiculous changes. Stupid, asinine, illogical changes."

"You've never gotten along?" she guessed.

"_He's_ always had it out for _me,_" he defended. Or accused. He couldn't be sure which.

"Well, what are you going to do?" Korra asked nervously, beginning to understand the urgency of the situation. "That guy is so—so _particular_! And he's such a stickler for professionalism, too! He's gonna take one look at your shirt and flat-out deny your conference proposal without ever looking at what you've written, because he's not gonna want a slob representing the—"

"I _know_!" he snapped. "Believe me, _I know_. I got it. Dammit," he growled, nearly tearing the napkin to shreds as it uselessly slid over the completely dry fabric. "I'm fucked."

"Wait! _Ow_," Korra suddenly exclaimed, ramming her hip into the corner of the wood in her rush to make it to the other side of the desk. "Hold on—I've got it!"

"What? You've got another men's dress shirt stowed away somewhere in that backpack—"

Before he could process what she was doing, Korra was up against him, colliding into his chest from the force of her momentum, and as he stumbled back, his hands immediately reached out to steady her, lest they _both _fall. Still a little thrown off-guard, Tahno glowered down at the girl in his arms and accused, "Your clumsiness is fucking conta—"

Tahno's words promptly disappeared, however, for Korra—once steady—had lifted her hands to his collar, and wrenched it apart.

"What the—_what the hell are you doing_?" Tahno hissed, immediately shooting a glance to the lobby down the hall. In an unusual stroke of luck, he'd left the blinds closed this afternoon. "Seriously," he insisted, grabbing her hands away from the remains of his shirt; she'd already torn off three buttons when she'd ripped it open. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"You can't wear this," Korra reminded him, before making quick work of undoing the buttons near his waist; she didn't even seem to notice that his fingers were still wrapped around her wrists. He watched in shocked fascination as her fingers traveled lower, brushing along his stomach as she finished the job. He hoped she didn't notice how hard he'd swallowed.

"Right," Tahno said slowly, watching as she fumbled with the final button. She ducked her head down to take a closer look, and Tahno used the opportunity to regain his composure. He lifted his head to the ceiling and took a deep, normalizing breath. "So what," he sniped, still focusing on the ceiling, and not on the activity at his hips. His fingers wouldn't let go. "You propose I greet Tarrlok in a beater?"

"Nope," Korra said simply, quickly rising. Tahno reflexively glanced down, coming face-to-face with his intern, where he was met with a pointed look. She shook her wrists free, and as his hands floated down to his sides, she eased her fingers under the fabric at his shoulders and slipped the ruined shirt down to his elbows, revealing the beater that he'd previously mentioned. That, at least, had been safe from the caffeine invasion—thanks to its being black—but he didn't really see how she thought that was going to be of any use, beyond pretending to be impervious to coffee stains or—

"Whoah," he resisted, leaning back away from her proximity. "What are you—?"

"Well, it's not exactly like you're helping!" she snapped, gesturing down to where he stood mostly-stiff while she was trying to free his arms from his long sleeves.

This seemed like the perfect time for a snarky comment—_you know, I can't say that this is how I would have imagined you undressing me_—but the words felt stuck in his throat.

"I hope you don't make Asami work this hard, goddamn."

Tahno's scowl returned, full-fledged, just as she tore the other cuff of his sleeve from his wrist, leaving him significantly less-dressed than when he'd first entered the lab two hours ago. She crumpled the shirt into a pitiful ball of fabric and tossed it in the trash beneath the desk. "Hey!" he protested. "That was—whoah, _hey_."

Korra reached down to the hem of her horrendous, oversized red hoodie, and pulled.

"Whoah, no, what—wait, what—"

"Quick," she urged him breathlessly, ponytail askew from the ferocious removal of her sweatshirt. He looked at her like she was crazy. "C'mon," she snapped impatiently. "Put it on."

_Oh, hell no! _"Absolutely not," he ground out, with more anger than the situation probably warranted. "There is no way in _hell_—"

"This isn't really the time to be worrying about a fashion statement, Tahno!"

"That is actually precisely why we are worrying and—wait, where the hell is _your _shirt?"

"I'm wearing one!"

"You call _that_ a shirt?"

"I call it a beater, thank you. Just like you do," she argued, roughly shoving the hoodie into his stomach. Tahno's eyes flew across the sight before him, taking in the small ridges of the white fabric, the low-sweeping slope of the neckline, the barest traces of a bra peeking out from beneath the straps—_black_—and swallowed.

"What happened to the t-shirts?" he asked dryly, pushing the sweatshirt back. Granted, he'd only seen one—_t-shirt! One t-shirt!_—but it was far more preferable to the despicable garment currently in his hands; and besides, she should have been supporting her new school, and it was about time somebody told her to buy some frickin' blue.

"You know the drill," she quipped, and then boldly gave him a wink. "Fewer layers."

Tahno was speechless, but Korra didn't stay long for victory; she used his moment of loss to secure the bundle in his arms and flee to the other side of the room, where she immediately picked up her coat and scooped up the remainder of the day's paperwork.

"Do _not_ tell me that's for that vapid moron's benefit!"

"Well, it's not exactly for Asami's."

"Wait," he called, as soon as he was able to resume normal functioning. His brain was about to shut down from overload. "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

"Tarrlok's not supposed to know that I'm into biology. I chose you instead, remember?" she told him with a sigh. Her dark shoulders disappeared beneath a black winter coat. "I've got to get out of here before they arrive, which will be _any minute now_, so put on the damn hoodie!"

"You think this is more professional than a coffee-stained dress shirt?" he demanded, holding it at arms' length. "The atrocious undergrad sweatshirt of my supervisor's goddaughter? Tell me—in what part of your brain did this make sense to you?"

"Look," Korra marched over to him, now fully packed. She looked him straight in the eye, even though her gaze should have been level with his collarbone. He couldn't help but notice—at least, from what he could tell—that it didn't seem to make a speck of difference to her that his arms were exposed, or that the definition of his chest was clear, plain for all to see— "Tenzin is observant, but he's not gonna call you out on anything in front of somebody else; Tarrlok probably doesn't remember shit about your undergrad experience, and although he's not gonna be a huge fan of your attire, it'll probably be a hell of a lot better than any of your other options. And in a matter of moments, they're both going to be walking through that door! You have a completely ruined dress shirt in the trash bin, and you have a perfectly good sweatshirt in your hands—well, okay, it's _mostly_ clean—so, really, it's up to you, but either way, I'm outta here."

"Wait!—you can't just—"

"Good luck, Professor Tight-Pants!" she whisper-called as she slipped out through the door, leaving him sort of-shirtless in his own lab. "I'll text you later to check-in!"

Tahno watched the door close, looked down to the loathsome red sweatshirt in his hands, and scowled.

* * *

"Well done, Tahno," Tenzin complimented, as soon as Tarrlok was out of earshot. He'd needed to step out to make a call, so it was anyone's guess for how long it would take. "Even Tarrlok is impressed in spite of himself."

Involuntarily, Tahno released a sigh of relief. "Will it meet the approval requirements?"

"Easily," Tenzin assured him. "However, there is one more detail I would like to discuss with you."

Unease reigned. "Yes?" Tahno asked steadily.

"Forgive me if I'm mistaken," he began, and then his eyes dropped in a subtle glance toward the red hooded sweatshirt Tahno wore. "But I could have sworn you attended a public school near the swamps."

"That's correct, sir."

"Ah," Tenzin said slowly, while Tahno internally cursed the day he even requested an intern in the first place. "Yes. Yes, I thought so. You see, it's interesting because I couldn't help but notice your attire; I know that my goddaughter attended that very university. She's very proud of her alma mater."

"I'm sure she is," he agreed, not entirely able to keep out a hint of bitterness. Tenzin's eyes turned amused, and Tahno felt more like a fool than ever. To Tahno's surprise, Tenzin looked meaningfully toward the wadded-up shirt in the trash; he smiled good-naturedly, lips quirking with understanding, but that did not make Tahno feel any better.

"Do I want to know?" he asked warily.

Tahno shook his head slowly; he told himself that his swallow wasn't a gulp.

"No, sir."

* * *

**End Note: **But seriously, I'm having way too much fun. If you want to request some more "let's put Tahno and Korra in really uncomfortable and awkward situations with too much unresolved sexual tension" prompts, then please feel free to leave them in a review! The more, the merrier. ;)


	30. Tahno did something reckless

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed. **  
Word Count: **563  
**Author's Notes: **_4/7/13. _Not gonna lie, I listened to "La La" by The Cab a lot for these last few updates. I'm quickly growing obsessed with The Cab in general, but I really love this one and "Animal."

**Gifted To: **_anonymous!_

* * *

**That one night  
**  
_Tahno did something reckless._

* * *

Tahno knew that if he tried to carry out this plan, he was probably going to die.

(He did it, anyway.)

* * *

"Hello?"

"So, I was thinking," he casually began, peering down at the sweatshirt in his lap. He played with an aglet of one of the hoodie's drawstrings while he spoke, looping and twisting it around the steering wheel. "I never really liked this sweatshirt much in the first place."

He could hear her panic rising on the other end of the line: slow, silent, and steady. "Tahno," she began, cautiously. Warningly.

(But Tahno was a wild man, unpredictable and unstoppable—or, at least. He used to be. Whatever. He just wanted revenge.

_No._ He wanted justice.)

"I mean, it's really not worth all that much to me," he went on, glancing up to the townhouse across the street. It looked fancy enough on the outside, but Tahno knew better; Asami's father had more than enough money to have them both live out their graduate lives in a mansion, but still, they chose this young and hopping neighborhood that only pretended to have a sense of class. At least the shutters were nice. "And I really don't feel like holding onto it until tomorrow."

"Tahno," she repeated, more urgently this time; anger and annoyance laced her tone. "This isn't funny."

"There's a dump right around the corner," he remembered aloud.

"_Tahno_..."

"Though a goodwill would be more humane."

"Tahno, enough," she bit out. He could hear her moving around inside, and it sounded like she was dropping heavy things all over the floor. Shoes, maybe? "Where are you? I'll just come meet you and get the damn thing myself."

He smirked into the phone. "You can try."

"Shit, Tahno, did Tarrlok traumatize you or something? What's gotten into you?"

"Traumatized might be a little strong, but it mostly fits the bill," he admitted evenly; he wasn't referring to Tarrlok. Korra suddenly stilled. He could see the cogs turning in her brain, a few of the puzzle pieces slowly clicking together.

"What's the catch?"

(So maybe he wasn't all that unpredictable, after all.)

Tahno smirked, watching the shadows over the curtains of one particular room on the third floor. "I'm willing to give it back," he offered graciously. "On one condition."

"What condition?" she sighed impatiently, resuming her rustling. She was getting ready to go out and find him, he bet.

"We'll need to meet in person to discuss this condition."

"That's _two_ conditions," she pointed out.

"Fine," he responded easily. "Two conditions. I don't really care."

"All right, _fine_. I hope you know how much of an inconvenient asshole you're being," she muttered. "Where should I meet you?"

"Your apartment."

He waited in the silent car, barely breathing. The other end of the line sounded completely dead, but he knew she was still there. His eyes glanced up to the window once more; the light was still on.

"You're kidding," she said, finally. Flatly.

"I am not the kind to kid," he pointed out.

"Asami's not here, Tahno," she tried again, with a sigh. "She left early for the weekend to visit her dad."

Carefully, Tahno licked his dry lips.

"I know."


	31. Tahno felt like an undergrad again

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed. **  
Word Count: **2,477  
**Author's Notes: **4_/9/13. _I'm just going to keep writing and see how far I can get. (**Review and prompt! **:D ) Also, listening to "Closer" by Tegan and Sara.

**Gifted To: **_kavos-plz__!_

* * *

**That one night **

_Tahno felt like and undergrad again._

* * *

"All right," she huffed impatiently, shutting the door behind her. "Hand it over."

"You can stop looking at me like I'm going to break something. I'm not here to trash anything—you know, sort of like what you did to my shirt this afternoon."

"Ha, ha, very funny. Now give it up."

"Not so fast," he crossed his arms, staring down at her. She'd barely let him cross the threshold, which simply wasn't going to work. "We've got things to discuss."

"So discuss."

_Well, all right, then_. "Fine. I want apartment visitation rights," he declared.

"You're visiting right now, aren't you?"

"_Full_ visitation rights."

"No way," she immediately denied, aghast.

It wasn't unexpected, but he was still taken aback by the severity of her dismissal. "On what grounds?" he demanded.

"On the grounds of being an asshole!"

Tahno scoffed, "And yet you still let Mako inside."

"Is that what this is all about?" she snapped incredulously. "Some hissy fit because Mako's allowed over, and you're not?"

"Well, you have to admit that the imbalance is a little uncalled for."

"Uncalled for—_uncalled _for—"

"All right," he backpedaled, rapidly; her glare was so fierce it was actually a little difficult not to do so physically, too. Hurriedly, he tried, "So maybe not _uncalled_ for. Maybe we blew it last month with the whole—with the whole Valentine's debacle—"

"Trust me, Tahno," she crossed her arms, more severe than he'd ever seen her before. "I know all too well what was blown."

He floundered, just a little. "All right," he nodded absently, unable to argue. "Yeah, all right—I fucked up, okay? But you're not even hearing me out!" he accused.

"News flash, Tahno," she took a step closer. "We're not in the lab; we're in my territory, and here _I _make the rules."

_Well, that's funny_, he thought spitefully, feeling a glower taking over. _Because you somehow end up making the rules everywhere, anyway, no matter where you are. _

But that was gonna change.

"This isn't a territorial dispute," he countered, holding her gaze steady. "This isn't even supposed to be a dispute!"

"Then what _is_ it supposed to be?"

"A negotiation," he drawled. _Not that you would know one if it smacked you in the face. _"It's time we made a deal. An official one."

Korra regarded him very carefully. Slowly, she said, "I'm listening."

Tahno had to blink a few times before he was certain that he'd heard her right. He waited for any sort of invitation—something, whatever, anything—but she was perfectly content to keep him cornered by the door all night, apparently. "Can I sit down?" he asked, trying to be patient. (It wasn't very easy.)

She rolled her eyes and turned her back on him, wordlessly ordering him to follow her to the small kitchenette in the adjacent room. It was a little smaller than his, but much, much brighter. Plus, there were five trillion different gadgets that he wouldn't know how to name, let alone ever have any use for.

"Goddamn, are you a barista on the side?" he asked incredulously. "There's enough coffee and espresso makers here to—"

"Asami is something of a connoisseur, as you should probably already know," Korra said curtly. Tahno's brows furrowed; this wasn't usually how they played the game. She really _was _annoyed. "She's the main reason for my preferences in the first place."

"Ah," he said.

A beat passed, then another—an awkward silence that felt far more awkward than it probably should have, and then Korra leapt from her seat and strode over to the Mr. Coffee. "Goddammit," she hissed, reaching for the filters in the upper cabinets. "Why do I have the feeling you're going to be here for a while?"

"Um—"

"You want one?"

He'd never had any of her home-brewed coffee before. "Is it safe?"

She glared.

"Yeah, fine, whatever," he mumbled, shaking his head. She was in an even worse humor than before, and he only kept making it worse for himself. _God, Tahno, _he chided mentally. _Pull it together! _His undergrad self would have been mourning this evening as a series of unspeakable failures; never would his younger self have ever thought he'd be so capable of saying precisely the wrong thing at the wrong time. Hadn't he used to be suave? Seductive? "Er," he caught himself staring when she'd turned to face him with an expectant brow. "Thanks."

(_Asami_ thought so.)

"So were you not a coffee person before you met her, then?" he asked curiously, watching as she scooped the proper amount of coffee grounds into the filter. And by _proper_, of course, he meant _estimated_; the measuring spoon seemed to be more of a guideline than a tool. (He had to look away.) "What did you even drink?"

"You didn't come here to talk about coffee, Professor Tight-Pants."

Ah. The nickname. Although it hadn't always been clear to Tahno, the nickname seemed to be a good sign; it usually signaled that she wasn't yet furious enough with him to commit murder. "You never know," he said airily. She had chosen nothing to replace her dreadful sweatshirt, so she was wearing a gray t-shirt—_better_—and black yoga pants, but he tried not to pay too much attention to those. And there, peaking out from underneath the gray cotton, was the bottom of a white tank top, the beater that he'd seen her wear that afternoon, which meant that she probably hadn't changed that, at least, which also meant that she probably hadn't changed what was _underneath _it, either—he coughed, gently, clearing his throat. "You never know," he repeated quickly, staring at the countertop to her right. "It could become part of the deal."

"How so?" she asked dryly, locking the pieces in place and flipping the switch on.

"Although I'm not quite so up-to-date on Asami's beverage preferences, I do happen to be very aware of your tastes."

Korra's eyes narrowed imperceptibly, but he could feel her attention catching. "Go on," she allowed, slipping into the chair adjacent to his.

Tahno leaned farther across the table, suddenly looking very serious. "In exchange for full visitation rights—including, but not limited to, overnight stays when granted advanced permission—I will buy you one caffe mocha every week."

Korra snorted. "Like you would remember—"

"Extra hot, no whipped cream."

She halted.

"And you have a reusable cup, but you never remember to bring it, so go ahead and throw that in there too."

Korra looked discomfited, but he took this as another favorable sign. "One drink per week? You really think that's fair?"

"And your awful sweatshirt," he reminded her.

"That's _all_?"

Tahno blinked. "What more could you want?"

Slowly, Korra leaned forward, a saccharine smile spreading across her lips.

"You better grab yourself a pen, Professor Tight-Pants," she smirked.

(He probably should have been scared, but he was too distracted by her mouth.)

"Because this is gonna be fun."

* * *

"Oh, god," Tahno muttered hopelessly, staring down at the napkin-document in disgust. "I'm practically signing my soul away."

"Chin up, Professor Tight-Pants," she quipped, already in a considerably better mood. "All good things will be revealed in time."

"Easy for you to say," he sniped, scouring the messy pen blots lining their agreement. Sixty-four conditions. _What was I thinking_? "The least you could have done was find a piece of paper to use instead of this paper towel; at least then I could have lost my dignity with dignity."

"Tahno, you lost that long before you ever stepped through my door."

(The sad part, he knew, was that her words were even truer than she realized.)

"So now what?" he grouched.

"Now it's time for you to leave," she said simply, hanging the document on the fridge with a magnet, right where Asami could see it on Monday morning. It wasn't truly official until the roommate signed it too, but it was still a binding agreement in action, nonetheless. "I have class in the morning, and you probably have more paperwork to do. Conference appearances won't plan themselves."

Tahno scowled into his empty coffee cup. He hated it when she was right—which, unfortunately, proved to be more often than he would have liked.

"Want one for the road?"

"Why not? I've already burnt off most of my taste buds, anyway. _Ow_," he rubbed the back of his head tenderly. "That wasn't part of the bargain!"

"No, but the old rules of douchebaggery still apply." _Douchebaggery? Is that even a word? Where does she come up with this— _"And speaking of bargaining: I want my sweatshirt back."

Oh.

(He'd forgotten.)

"Ugh. I don't even know why you like that ratty old thing so much." He rose from his chair, stretching his long, stiff limbs.

"It's called sentimentality," she explained loftily, pouring the last of the pot into the to-go mug that she never remembered to use. "Though the concept's probably unfamiliar to you."

He sent an impressive glare, but it went unnoticed. She was rinsing out the parts of the coffee maker in the sink and setting them in the drying rack. He picked up the to-go cup from the counter, felt the warmth flood into his hands, and said, "Come out to my car and get it."

"What?" she glanced back to where he was leaning against the counter, incredulous as ever. "You didn't even bring it inside?"

"It was my best bargaining chip. You think I was really gonna let it go that easily? And besides," Tahno looked down pointedly; he was wearing the now-infamous beater and a jacket, but certainly nothing that would stow something of such a bulky, ugly size. "Where would I have hidden it?"

"I don't know—"

"I mean," he smirked. "I know _you_ know that there's a lot that can be packed in here—"

"Tahno, please. I'm not in the mood for your jokes."

Against his will, he faltered; he hadn't really _meant _to be offensive. (It was just one of those things that happened. When he opened his mouth. A lot.)

"I mean," she continued offhandedly, drying a dish with unnatural focus. He heard a smirk begin to crack, and instinctively took a step closer, trying to assure himself that his eyes and ears weren't playing tricks. "We _both _know that there isn't a whole lot of space in your jeans to begin with, Professor Tight-Pants, which can really only be a testament to how little you have to pack in the first place." She moved onto the next dish. "There wouldn't be much hope for anything else."

"So you've noticed just how tight they are?" he asked, a new sense of curiosity piquing. Her fingers clenched around the rim of a glass. (He noticed.)

"Tahno, seriously, with all that you've put me through tonight, _you_ should be bringing it to _me,_" she said, effectively throwing him for a loop.

"I'm not gonna walk all the way out to my car just to walk all the way back up here," he said with an air of finality. (It was _not_ petulance.)

"Tahno, it's across the street and we're on the third floor."

"Not my point," he promptly took a sip from his cup, testing the waters, so-to-speak. _Not bad. Not that she'll ever know_. "Now let's go."

"Wait—hold on a minute—"

"C'mon, intern," he started walking. "I'm leaving now."

"Arghh, fine!" she hissed, throwing the dish towel into the sink. "Just let me get something to put on. For the love of—"

(And that was how Tahno was left standing alone in her kitchen, holding a cup of her coffee—

—feeling younger and more stupid than ever.)

It reminded him of the old days of undergrad, before he was King; not quite so experienced, not quite so suave, not quite so sure. He caught himself deliberating over the best way to stand—hand in pocket, hand at his side, _no, _no, definitely in the pocket—and trying to find something in the living room unobtrusive enough to look at while he waited. (It's not like he really got a good look at the place the first time he was there.) There were family pictures, but Tahno had never really liked looking at those very much, and the shelves of roommate-bonding pictures just couldn't hold his attention. He found himself looking at her couch instead, which, unfortunately, was precisely what she caught him staring at when she appeared from what he presumed to be her bedroom.

"Revisiting fond memories?" she speculated, teasingly.

"More like wondering why you have such terrible taste in furniture. Do you make a habit of adopting couches that should be tossed to the curb?"

To Tahno's surprise, she blew out her bangs, inexplicably frustrated, and moved to the door. It was as he was standing behind, watching closely as she pulled on the handle, that he heard her mutter:

"You should see my taste in men."

* * *

"There," he said spitefully, handing it over on the dark street corner. "One hideous sweatshirt, safely returned."

"How do I know you didn't really do anything to it?"

"You don't; but trust me, I wouldn't be caught wearing it long enough to try."

Korra smiled in spite of herself, running her thumbs over the dark threads. "I trust the meeting went well, then?"

"Well, you'd know if you'd bothered to text."

She sent him a look, but he could see the apology under the _give me a break_. "Would you like an excuse?" she asked.

"Save it," he told her magnanimously, stepping away from where he leaned against the car door to reach for the handle. "You're a terrible liar."

(He'd meant it to come out as an insult.)

Tahno was already inside the car a moment later, and Korra blinked at how quickly he'd moved. She rolled her eyes and crossed the street, throwing a wave over her shoulder. He decided not to watch her as he turned the ignition; get out, go home—go _somewhere_—go fast. That was the plan. (It was a better plan. This plan had been stupid.)

_Who am I trying to kid?_

(There hadn't ever been any plan.)

* * *

Which was why things only got worse when his car wouldn't start.


	32. Korra got more (Part I)

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed. **  
Word Count: **3,818  
**Warnings: **Language, especially. :P Just in case you didn't see it: **LANGUAGE, LANGUAGE, WARNING FOR LANGUAGE.**  
**Author's Notes: **4_/10/13. _"Mama Do" by Pixie Lott and "Oh My!" by Haley Reinhart. ;)

**Gifted To: **_shoeninja_ & _oriorio!_

* * *

**That one night **

_Korra got more than she bargained for. _(Part I)

* * *

"What do you mean it won't start!"

"I _mean_ it won't start!"

"Well, fucking—_why not_?"

Tahno's nostrils flared. "Don't you fucking think that if I knew, I wouldn't have had to—"

"Oh, _goddamit_—move over."

"I beg your—"

The bottom of a house slipper connected with his hip, and the next thing he knew, he was sitting awkwardly over the handbrake, clutching onto the dashboard and the passenger seat's headrest for balance. Before he had the chance to arrange himself, his intern somehow managed to do it for him; estimating loosely based on how quickly he was shoved from the arm rest to the passenger seat—not to mention the impact his cheek made against the car window—Tahno figured that she must have literally swung herself into the car. By the time he was finally able to untangle his limbs and round on her, she was giving the ignition a vicious crank.

Nothing.

"Dammit. Your battery is shot," she diagnosed with a frustrated sigh.

"I know that," Tahno spat immediately, feeling his irritation grow beyond controllable heights. (He should have been gone by now.) "I'm not an imbecile."

"Did you leave your lights on?"

Tahno sneered at the very thought. "What am I, sixteen? I am not the kind of person who would forget. And I wasn't even here for that long."

"A few hours might be long enough, if the battery is old or—"

"I did _not_ forget to turn off my lights," he insisted.

"Well, how else do you explain it?"

"I'm not going to! That's what mechanics are for, which is exactly why I'm calling one."

"Right now?"

Tahno's fingers paused over the keypad. His eyes burned with incredulousness. "No, you know, I was actually thinking of waiting until one drove by, and that after I could have you teach him the mind-blowing differences between lattes and cappuccinos while I contemplated what I've done to deserve life's punishments—_yes_, now, for fuck's sake."

"Tahno!" Korra protested, with angry, accusing eyes. "I can't stay out here with you all night!"

"I can't say I remember asking you to."

"Dude, I'm not just gonna leave you out here," she pounded her fist against the edge of his steering wheel. "What if the towing company takes too long? Or if something else happens to your car in the meantime?"

"Like _what_? And I have wonderful insurance."

"Well, how the hell do you expect to get home?"

"I don't; I have access to the lab even when the building is closed. I'll just take a cab and—and fine, just call in a tow truck tomorrow morning, or something."

"Take a—_take_ a—god, Tahno, for a doctorate student, sometimes you can be so, _so_ stupid."

(He was sitting ramrod against the backrest of the passenger seat, jaw and spine stiff, trying to ignore the way her insolence had brought her even closer—leaning over the armrest into what little space he had, so she could insult him properly—and he thought:

_Tell me something I don't know._)

"Well, you fucking know what you have to do now."

"I know what I _want_ to do," he muttered under his breath.

"Tahno, you are _not_ sleeping with the bacteria all night, for goodness' sake. Again."

"Oh, really?" he spat nastily.

"Really," she hissed.

"Then enlighten me, why don't you?" he demanded, hair flying wildly across his face. "Where the fuck _am_ I sleeping?"

* * *

"Extra blankets are on the top shelf, but you're probably not going to need them," Korra explained easily, shuffling about the living room while Tahno stood awkwardly behind. His hands were in his pockets. "Asami and I both like having the heat cranked up during this time of year because we're so frickin' sick of winter, and her dad doesn't mind the cost." She laughed suddenly, as she tossed a pillow at the armrest. "It's actually one of Asami's major projects; she's trying to figure out how the hell she's going to make her lifestyle more sustainable without making any actual lifestyle changes. I guess that's being an engineer for you. I always told her she should have gone into civil or environmental, but her dad is mechanical the way, so..." she trailed off, realizing that she was rambling. She made a face, squinting and grimacing out her apology. "But you probably already knew that. Right."

He hadn't, actually; he and Asami never really discussed much of anything relating to their courses or career paths, let alone the work that they were using each other to forget about. For some reason, though, Tahno couldn't quite bring himself to correct her. He shrugged.

Korra gave a heavy sigh. "Well, all right, then," she said evenly, still a little too chipper for his liking. (He refused to believe that she was okay with this. She couldn't be okay with this. She _shouldn't _be okay with this. Not while he was freaking out.) "You can get yourself some water or whatever—I'll be right back."

_Well, fuck_, he thought.

(This was not how he'd expected this evening to go.)

Tahno watched her disappear behind the door out of the corner of his eye. As soon as she was gone, his hands practically flew to his head, fingernails scraping uselessly against his tired, aching skull. What was he thinking? (He wasn't.) He should have declined, like his good instincts had told him to in the first place, and just called a cab home as soon as this whole mess started. He could still do it, too. It wasn't too late.

_Then enlighten me, why don't you? Where the fuck __am__ I sleeping?_

_With me, goddammit!_

(It wasn't long before he took her up on that offer for water.)

* * *

Tahno was sipping from his glass when a noise sounded from Korra's bedroom door. His head snapped to the side.

"Shorts?" he asked skeptically, raising a brow.

"Well, yeah," Korra looked them over, then held them out for him to see. They were black and appeared to be a good size. "You weren't planning on sleeping in your jeans, were you?"

Tahno frowned. That part hadn't actually occurred to him yet.

(He was still trying to figure out just much sleeping he was going to be able to manage in the first place.)

"God, Tahno, they're not going to attack you. At least try them on."

He caught them easily; it was the moment that they fell into his hands, however, that a very important question climbed its way up from the deepest trenches of Tahno's mind. His eyes narrowed at the fabric in his grasp.

His voice was low when he asked, "Whose are these?"

Korra licked her lips. "Would you believe me if I said they're mine?" she tried. Tahno glared.

"No."

"Well, it was worth a shot," Korra laughed quietly, taking the few extra steps needed to retrieve them from his hands. They were thankfully out of his possession a moment later, but she didn't bother to reclaim her distance. Instead, she held them up once more, stretching the fabric wide; they stared down at the waistband of the fabric suspended between them, while Korra hummed. "On second thought, he definitely wouldn't have wanted you to wear them, anyway. Yeah, no, definitely for the best."

"Wait a minute," Tahno halted her, spinning her back around to face him. "_Whose _are these?"

"Um," Korra hesitated. "Would you believe me if I said they were Asami's ex-boyfriend's?"

Tahno inhaled deeply, and he could feel his fingers digging into her shoulder. "Are you telling me," he began slowly. Dangerously. "That you were gonna try to slip me _Mako's_—and you weren't even going to—without ever—"

"Ugh, calm down, Professor Tight-Pants," Korra waved his hand away. She snatched the pair of shorts behind her back, hiding it from view. "Fine, sleep in your tight-ass jeans for all I care. I'm gonna brush my teeth, and then I am _done_ for the night."

He scowled as she slipped back behind her door, into this mysterious room; she barely even let the door open so much as a crack. _She's probably a slob_, he guessed. Still, he'd resigned himself to this decision and now he really _was_ stuck with it, so he might as well get used to the idea. With a sigh, Tahno unzipped his jacket and tossed it over the back of the couch, then let himself fall back onto the cushions. Lying back onto the armrest, Tahno slowly went through the motions of removing his shoes and socks, and then—unfortunately—trying to find the most comfortable position for sleeping on a couch that was intended for someone almost a full head shorter than he was. The cushions were too stiff and the fabric was too scratchy, and although he'd never admit it to her face, his jeans _were_ maybe-a-little tight. In fact, he'd take it to the grave, but his discomfort was so great, it almost made him wish he'd taken her up on Mako's shorts.

(Almost.)

"You wouldn't happen to have any extra toothbrushes to go along with this mystical stash of extra clothes that you supposedly pack for everywhere you go, do you?" he ventured, calling out to his intern in the other room. "I'll be happy to accept one—provided, of course, that it doesn't match the shorts I've already declined."

"Use your finger," she replied shortly, her voice muffled by the sound of the door.

"Ugh," he mumbled. "That's disgusting."

"Whatever," she huffed, in a perfectly normal voice, if not a little on the sprightly side. He started when he realized that she was behind him, emerging from her room. "Be creative then."

His head turned, and he stopped.

"Well, I see you've made yourself at home," she observed with an unsurprised smile. It was amused, which was good for him, but he couldn't find the focus to appreciate it.

"What is that?"

Suddenly, Korra looked nervous; self-conscious even, which would have been rare, if he'd been in any mind to make those sorts of connections. "What?" she demanded, looking down.

"_That_," he repeated, staring hard at the dark, navy blue sweatshirt she was wearing. "You _have _one?"

Korra blinked. "Don't most students?"

"I don't care about the other students—I want to know why it is that you've apparently been hiding this fucking sweatshirt away, and wearing that shitty ancient one instead!"

"Tahno, you can't call a sweatshirt ancient; just imagine, what would we call you?"

His scowl deepened. "None of that is funny."

"You don't hear me laughing," she smiled, strolling over to the bathroom. On a whim, Tahno jumped up and followed.

"Why don't you like the blue one?" he demanded from the open doorframe, arms crossed.

"_Jesus_—Tahno!" Korra's hand flew to her heart, but her words were warbled by the loaded toothbrush clenched between her teeth. Hastily, she spit out the paste from her mouth and into the sink.

"Ugh," Tahno turned to the side, rolling his eyes. "So uncouth."

She wiped the excess from her lips with her wrist, glaring hard. "This is _my_ home, remember? I live as I please, thank you very much. Try to keep the judgment reeled in a little, would you? You're going to be disappointed in the morning when you've wasted it all on trivial things like spit."

"I've got plenty to share."

"So do I."

"All right, enough," he snapped. The last thing he should be thinking about, Tahno realized belatedly, was what went inside her mouth. (It was also unfortunate, then, that he couldn't seem to stop watching her brush her teeth. She made terrible faces, shamelessly, and he rolled his eyes at all of them, but he couldn't stop.) "You still haven't answered me," he pointed out crossly.

"Answered what?" she spoke around the toothbrush, watching her reflection in the mirror. She must have felt his eyes on her, but her own staring contest seemed to be occupying her whole attention.

"Why I've never seen you wear the blue one before."

Korra rolled her eyes. "Just because you don't see me wear it to work doesn't mean I don't wear it at home occasionally."

"That doesn't change my question," he persisted, watching her watch herself in the mirror. "What's so special about the old red one that you can't just wear your new school's?"

Korra shrugged, but the answer seemed to come uneasily, like she was only just connecting the pieces together as she spoke, connecting them along with him. "I guess I'm just so used to it. It's familiar, you know? I know how it feels, I like the way it looks, and it's easy to throw on whatever I need it."

"You just described every sweatshirt out there, ever."

Korra spit loudly into his sink—probably for his benefit, he thought. "No," she insisted, using the toothbrush as a wand. "The blue one is too new; I haven't broken it in yet, so it's still scratchy at the seams, and it's not really soft at all. It's actually one of the roughest hoodies I've ever owned, and it always feels like such a chore to wear it and—and why do you care so much, anyway?"

"I don't," he immediately denied. "Aside from the fact that you're a disgrace to our university."

"Oh, please."

"But hey, it's not like they're giving you shit tons of money to fund your education or any_—ugh."_

Korra jabbed the toothpaste tube directly into his gut, and held it there. She leaned in close—close enough for him to smell the fresh mint on her breath—and whispered conspiratorially, "You need to brush your teeth, man."

She shoved the tube further into his stomach as she slinked by, and as Tahno's hand reached down to catch it before it could fall, his fingers accidentally latched onto hers; they slipped out a moment later, but even he could feel the twitching in his abs as her fingers slid over the dark fabric covering his torso, and then he was left standing in the open doorway of her bathroom, clutching her half-empty tube of toothpaste with a scowl on his face.

He took a deep breath, carefully taking the few meager steps to the sink in their tiny bathroom. _What the hell is with all these bright colors? _He was getting a headache just looking at them. His fingers spasmed suddenly, nearly making him drop the toothpaste. He released a scoff of disgust and then went about very thoroughly washing his hands.

He had no toothbrush, and he had no other alternative.

(And he didn't want to think about where _her_ hands had been.)

* * *

"I'm stealing your mouthwash," he declared five minutes later, perhaps a tad childishly.

"It's Asami's!" she called from the kitchen. (He tried not to feel disappointed. He couldn't figure out why.)

The splashes of water felt cool on his face, but his skin still felt too hot; she wasn't kidding about the heat. It was a veritable sauna in there. After wiping his face dry with his hands—he didn't trust either of the towels hanging on the rack—his bare feet padded into kitchen. He desperately needed more water, but Korra—as usual—was in the way; she was standing right in front of the sink, staring at the paper towel-document contract on the fridge, sipping from a glass of water of her own. She spared a quick glance in his direction, then immediately returned her gaze to the list.

"Looks like you're utilizing your new visitation rights a little bit earlier than expected," she observed, taking a sip. She smiled an ironic grin into the glass, but her voice still sounded like a sigh.

"Well," he shrugged, still standing a little ways away. "If you suddenly change your mind, you do have every right to kick me out according to the 'must be granted advanced permission' clause."

Her smile turned more genuine, and she shook her head. "No," she disagreed. "Because my direct invitation overrules general protocol. If I were to kick you out now, I'd just be a bad hostess."

"So you're saying that if it's you who invites me over in the first place, then you are morally and contractually bound to host me for as long as I require?"

"Tahno, your presence here will never be _required_; not by you, nor by anyone else in this apartment."

"You say that now, only because you have never received the full pleasure of my company."

Her look was flat. (It only occurred to him then, the heavier implications of that statement; they were better off left as they were.) "I think I've managed a pretty fulfilling life so far without it," she assured him dryly.

"Yet," he continued, enjoying the feeling of something familiar again. "If I could convince you otherwise, my access to your apartment would be secured for life."

"Yeah," she scoffed, gently placing her empty glass in the sink. "Good luck with that."

"Don't say I didn't warn you," he commented suddenly, quickly filling the spot she abandoned by the sink. He grabbed a glass from the drying rack and filled it up immediately from the faucet. "I bet you that one day in the not-so-distant future, you'll be in the habit of calling me over here."

Her skeptic eyes narrowed, but the quirk in her lips betrayed her intrigue. "Why would I call _you_?"

The sip of water was refreshing, but not nearly as thirst-quenching as he needed it to be. He stared down into the water, and this time, it _might _have been petulance. "Because I'm the only one stupid enough to trap myself in a binding agreement which states that I must bring you coffee whenever you deem it appropriate to do so."

Slowly, Korra's smile turned genuine.

"Ah, right," she breathed. "Consider me half-convinced already."

* * *

"Gross," Korra groaned, eyeing the clock on the living room mantle. "You're lucky I don't have class until eleven."

"What are you complaining about?" Tahno grumbled, falling back into a seated position in the middle of the couch. "I should have been asleep hours ago."

"Ah, yes," she quipped, turning the light dimmer in the kitchen down low. "I bet it's way past your old-timer bedtime."

That sat wrong with him on too many levels. "I'm not _that_ old."

Korra merely laughed. "Well, if tonight is any indication, you're definitely not getting any younger. I just..."

Tahno looked up, noticing her pause. "What?" he asked expectantly.

"I just find it funny, I guess," she noted with a shrug. The edges of her form were softened by the glow from the dimmed lights coming from the kitchen, and the tiny light coming from the bathroom around the corner, and the heat resting over Tahno's skin suddenly turned to warmth. "Asami thinks you're so mature for your age, but ever since she's met you, she's been acting like a freshman all over again."

Tahno didn't know how to respond to that. "I wouldn't have any basis for comparison," he pointed out, wary.

Korra's head dropped to the side, and her exasperated expression told him that perhaps she might not have required such a literal response. _Oh, well_, he thought stubbornly. Korra sighed again, obviously debating whether or not to continue, and he waited in silence, inexplicably curious. "Whatever, it's stupid."

"Doesn't usually stop you."

She glared. "I was gonna say that you act completely different around her than you are with anyone else," she announced. "You show proper respect for Tenzin, but that could very well be only because he funds your research in exchange for your partnership and loyalty. You're blatantly condescending to anyone you think is beneath you, and are incredibly argumentative when you think someone is challenging you, yet you're very covert about your dislike of Tarrlok because he's obviously so much higher up than you—"

"Objection."

"And you're a dick to Mako because—actually, I don't even really know why, but you're generally a dick to anyone who might steal your spotlight—"

(He didn't like where this was going.)

"But Asami..." Korra's mouth hung open, closed, then opened again. "I don't know," she bit off her own words, backing down. Tahno blinked, realizing that he was literally on the edge of his seat. (Her hands were in her hoodie's pocket.) "It's just what I was saying earlier, on New Year's—"

"New Year's?" he demanded.

Korra paused. "Yeah," she said slowly. "When I got interrupted with trying to tell you how I was pretty sure I could imagine what you were like in undergrad." She shrugged, ponytail bouncing lightly with the movement; Tahno's fingers twitched. He clenched them shut. "Well, I see you with her, and... it's pretty easy to guess."

Tahno's mouth felt dry. There was a lot to what she'd just said, and he wasn't entirely sure yet if he liked all of it.

"She wants us all to go out together, you know."

"What?"

"The four of us," Korra sighed, rocking back onto her heels. She was still standing, and Tahno's neck was staring to crick from having to look up. He wasn't sure if he should stand or— "You, me, Mako, and Asami."

Tahno's eyes closed as he exhaled, deep and low. "Not that again."

A spark of laughter erupted from her chest. "Sorry, man. Once Asami gets an idea into her head, it's nearly impossible to get it out."

Tahno scoffed. "Sounds like someone else I know."

When Korra raised a sable brow, Tahno was convinced that she'd been spending too much time around him for sure. "I could say the same... And you know, if I'd had known that our deal would have started as early as tonight, I'm not so sure I would have bargained so easily."

"Eas—" Tahno rounded on her, twisting his torso to where she was hovering just outside her room. "_Easily_?"

Korra merely smiled, one hand on her bedroom door handle. "Goodnight, Tahno."

"Yeah," he muttered, pulling up a blanket from the foot of the couch, feeling grouchy all of a sudden. "Whatever."

"Oh," she breathed, pausing in the frame. "I almost forgot."

Tahno had already laid himself down along the uncomfortable cushions, already ready to end this nightmare of an evening. "What now?"

"Remind me to finish one day."

"Finish what?" he sighed, just wishing she would go away. (The least she could do was let him pretend to rest in peace. He already knew that very little sleep was actually going to be in the picture tonight.

The reason, of course, probably had something to do with her voice.)

Korra laughed, sleepy and amused.

"I still haven't described the way you act around me."

* * *

As he lied on the couch hours later, bare feet hanging off the end in his intern's mostly-dark living room, he wondered if either of them actually had any idea what it was that they'd bargained for in the end.

(But he imagined that, as always, he'd somehow gotten the shortest end of the deal.)

* * *

**End Note: **Thank you so much for all the reviews! They are truly what's inspiring me to keep up this marathon, haha. Each of them brings a smile to my face and some of them are just too fucking funny. :D


	33. Korra got more (Part II)

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed. **  
Word Count: **1,822  
**Warnings: **Language, especially. :P  
**Author's Notes: **4_/13/13. _"Can't Control Myself' by Krewella.

**Gifted To: **_spiritrhiaway_  
(Thanks for the song rec!)

* * *

**That one night **

_Korra got more than she bargained for. _(Part II)

* * *

The door clicked shut, the lights went off, and finally, Korra was (mostly) alone.

* * *

"_Motherfucker._"

She nearly kicked herself in an effort to rid the blankets from her overheated legs, but the movement felt too good to stop, and soon she was a whirlwind of limbs, flailing and kicking and pounding. Her ponytail had already fallen out twice, but it was too hot to even consider keeping it down—and just _forget_ the pillow: she must have turned it over at least three times in the last hour alone.

"Mother—_fucking_—"

With a final pump of her fists into the bedsheets, Korra propelled herself upward from the waist, stray pieces of her hair whipping into her eyes and mouth. She coughed forcefully—having almost swallowed some on her way up—and frantically pulled at the annoying strands with her palms, trying to calm her breathing. It was barely spring, and yet Korra's skin was sticky with sweat.

Her hands instinctively reached down to edge of the white tank top at her waist, where they tore upward, ripping it over her head with a low growl. She collapsed back onto the sheets—blankets on the ground, pillows abandoned at the sides of the mattress, tank top and yoga pants lost somewhere in the unknown—and decided that it was all fucking useless.

Korra tried to pull the remaining pieces of hair away from her neck, hating the way they curled and stuck to the sensitive skin there. One deep breath, then two—and Korra knew beyond all doubt that her partnership with sleep was over for the night. Another glance at the clock had her groaning into the dark, palms hiding the truth from her tired eyes; it was at that awkward hour where it almost felt too late to go back to sleep, but still too early to start the day.

_What am I talking about, _Korra thought spitefully, rubbing her hands over the back of her neck._It's never too late to go back to sleep_.

(Except for the fact that she hadn't really slept much at all in the first place.)

"Fuck this," Korra hissed, scrambling from the bed.

* * *

The plastic bag of snap peas from the freezer wasn't really ideal, but it was the best she had.

Korra sighed deeply, shutting her eyes against the shocking cold of the frozen vegetables soothing her forehead; her hand was still leaning on the open door of the refrigerator, and as awesome as it all felt, she was starting to feel guilty about killing the environment. She closed the door with the ball of one foot, giving it an extra tap to make sure it was secure, and then slowly dragged her feet over to the sink, where she gave the faucet a vicious twist and drifted her fingers under the running tap. After spending a minute or two alternating between sprinkling it over the back of her neck and splashing her face, Korra eventually gave up and dunked the whole back of her skull underneath. When she cranked the faucet off, still dripping into the sink, Korra placed the bag right between her shoulder blades, then around her neck, back to her forehead, and down to her chest.

Feeling only marginally better, Korra opened the freezer door—was momentarily stunned by the fresh new wave of _cold _after being semi-doused with tap water—and tossed the bag back on to the top shelf. She allowed herself just one second more—_blissful, painful chill_—and then let the door close with a soft thud.

And then, without any warning at all, Korra dropped.

_Ahh, _she sighed with pleasure; the cold tiles summoned goosebumps over the skin of her arms. _Much better. _A sports bra, a pair of spandex shorts, and still, nothing quite did the trick for an incurable heat like the kitchen floor.

Well.

Almost nothing.

(Korra frowned at the ceiling, wondering how differently she might have been feeling if Mako had visited that evening as planned.)

Although she was unlikely to ever admit it out loud, the incident with Tahno's coffee spill had affected Korra more than she thought was acceptable; sure, she'd had every logical reason to leave the lab when she did—the last person she would ever want to know about her interest in biology was Tarrlok—but Korra was running out of excuses to convince herself that what she _didn't _do was up and run. (Would someone who _hadn't _upped and run been in such a state that they nearly hit a fire hydrant when they'd parked their car across the street? She didn't think so.) In fact, she hadn't even waited until she was back inside her apartment before she texted Mako, _Are you free tonight?_

She was already half-undressed when he texted back from his late-lasting seminar, promising to be available in just over an hour; although she could have finished the job herself and saved herself the trouble of waiting, Korra knew from previous visits that he would make it worth her while. It was as she was waiting out the final half hour stretch before Mako's arrival, however, that she received Tahno's call... and eventually found herself lying on the kitchen floor however many hours later, thinking of the _unexpected_ house guest sleeping on her living room couch, trying to ignore the heat.

(Korra had decidedly ignored him on her way over to the freezer.

She didn't think she'd be quite so lucky on the way back.)

"This is ridiculous," Korra muttered, quickly rising to her feet. The thermostat was just on the other side of the wall, in the living room; Asami would never notice a _few _degrees, right? _She'll just have to deal, _Korra huffed, pressing a few buttons, perhaps with a little more force than necessary. _Considering all that I'm putting up with for her_...

But once again, her rash decision-making had left her with a rather unfortunate situation; the soft noise of fabric shifting along fabric behind her made her stiffen, and her spine suddenly went as rigid as a plank. Had she... had she woken him?

Slowly, Korra pivoted her bare feet through the plush carpet, suddenly more thankful for Asami's luxurious tastes in décor than she ever thought possible. The light was still a little iffy, since all she had to go on was the streetlamps filtering in through the blinds and the distant nightlights from the bathroom and the kitchen behind her, but she could clearly see the dark shape of a figure draped over her couch, and a bare foot hanging off of one of the old arms. For a moment, she merely waited, half-turned and half-adjusted to the new shades of shadows, letting her mind slowly pick apart the pieces and _hoping _that when they fell back together, they'd come together in a pattern that made sense. Shapes, shadows, and silhouettes; soon Korra was able to see a leg, a mass of hair, a hand, a leg, and—_Well, _Korra swallowed._ Looks like he didn't need the extra blankets, then._

(In fact, it looked like he'd had very little need of blankets at all.)

She was silent as she crept closer to the couch, alert for any signs of waking—or just as likely: feigning of sleep—but all was seemingly well. Satisfied with her assessment—she had a job to do, you know, and part of that included making sure he could do _his_ to the fullest capacity—Korra released a sigh of relief and stood tall, only just then realizing how close she'd gotten to inspect him in the first place.

(But now that she thought about it...)

Tahno had stretched his long body as far out as the couch would allow, and then some; one hand was tucked under the cushion beneath his head, and the other was splayed across his bare stomach, with his fingers relaxed over the solar plexus—or so Korra recalled, in a bizarre recollection of an anatomy course she'd taken in undergrad. (Or maybe it'd been during one of Tenzin's chakra-yoga classes. Whatever. It didn't matter.) What _did _matter was that at some point while Korra had been battling the heat in _her _room, Tahno had already won the war; the blanket she'd laid out for him was crumpled uselessly on the floor, and she didn't know where his beater had gone, but it was certainly nowhere to be easily found while stumbling around in the dark. So instead, Korra was (sort of) faced with the very torso that she'd had the pleasant-unpleasant misfortune of brushing up against that very afternoon, the very same one she'd undressed in an office at a science lab, muscles and warmth and solidity and... all.

_He's totally out of it_, Korra frowned, watching the rise and fall of his chest with narrowed eyes. _Lucky bastard, _she spat enviously. He was sound asleep! _Like a log_, she thought scornfully, staring at the long fingers resting over the ridges of his abs. _Like a big... grumpy, tight-pants-wearing log. _(Though, admittedly, he looked a lot less grumpy now than he did while awake.) _God, how can he sleep like this? _

But somehow, he could. Eyelids firmly shut, face turned ever-so-slightly into the seat. Pale skin exposed to the elements, well-defined muscles enhanced by shadows. Dark jeans made darker, a metal button gleaming with a tiny of reflection of lamplight, and two clear-cut lines etched into his hips, framing his belly-button, reaching lower, disappearing down into the line of denim—

_Okay! _she stiffened, immediately snapping upright. Korra clamped her hands over her mouth to stifle her gasp, but then her eyes quickly darted down to his sleeping face, begging for confirmation that her clumsiness still hadn't woken him somehow. (She was ready to bolt. All she'd need was a second, maybe two and—) He was still asleep; Korra was every just as bit jealous as she was grateful. _Asshole_, she complained. _He probably wouldn't wake up for anything._

Korra stilled.

( …

… _anything?_)

She caught herself licking her lips, staring at his mouth. High cheekbones, strong jaw, and a long, narrow nose. _No wonder he's so stuck-up_, she thought, with hardly any malice. (Had his lashes always been that long?) He was so still, and his mouth was slightly open, lips parted toward the fabric that he so earnestly despised. She would have laughed, if she hadn't been so pissed.

(She might have done any number of things, if she hadn't been so chicken.)

"Asshole," she hissed beneath her breath, right before he moved.

* * *

(She'd been wrong.

A half a second was all she'd needed.)

* * *

Korra gasped into the tiled wall, eyes and face dripping with the water pounding into her from the shower head. (It'd been a fluke, just a measly muscle twitch. He was asleep, so _calm the fuck down, Korra_. Nothing had even—) She rubbed her hands over her face, slapped her cheeks, and massaged her temples.

It looked like it was time to start her day, after all.


	34. he didn't expect to wake up without a

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed. **  
Word Count: **959  
**Author's Notes: **4_/16/13. _"Feeling Good" by Michael Buble. (Hahahahah.)

**(Bonus!)**

* * *

**That one morning**

_he didn't expect to wake up without a shirt_.

* * *

He woke with a splitting headache.

"Good morning," chirped a voice from way too close.

Blinking away grogginess, Tahno instinctively turned in that direction. The whole room smelled of coffee. _My head? _he groaned. He hadn't been drinking—he _knew_ that—but his skull still felt like it'd been cracked open; a quick glance down at the old, creaky couch solved his every mystery. _Ah_. _Right. _"What time is it?" he rasped, still rubbing at his eyes.

"The perfect time to wake up for someone who makes his own work schedule." Suddenly, there was a mug of coffee in front of his face. Dazed and confused, Tahno blinked. The coffee cup remained. "On the other hand," she continued with an impatient edge. "It's cutting it a little close for someone who actually has to be somewhere doing something, like me." Slowly, Tahno sat up, feeling a brand new set of aches already clawing at his muscles. His hands reached out, taking the cup with silent gratitude.

"You're awfully chipper," he mumbled accusingly. "I didn't peg you as a morning person."

"Oh, I'm not," she dismissed, as she nimbly flitted away. "This is just the second cup of coffee talking."

_Second cup? _This girl was going to kill herself with caffeine. _Wait a minute. Second?_

"How long have you been up?"

"A while," she replied distractedly, sorting through a pile of mail on the dresser near the door, her to-go cup still in hand. Her hair looked still-damp from a shower, but her signature ponytail was already in place, and her clothes were fresh—save for the blue sweatshirt she wore. He was about to comment, when: "You know, I actually wondered last night if you might have finagled all this on purpose, just to spite me or something, but one look at that bedhead is enough evidence to prove otherwise."

Tahno scowled, taking a long, bracing sip of his coffee; it was going to be one of those days. He could already tell.

"Where's the red one?" he asked, feeling the warmth return the life to his veins.

"Safe from your clutches."

"Seriously."

Korra rolled her eyes. (She seemed to be doing that a lot lately.) "It's in the wash," she admitted, tossing an envelope to the side, and briskly walking back toward the kitchen. From the other room, she called: "I couldn't trust that it was safe until I could wear it and smell only me again!"

Tahno frowned. He didn't really like the sound of that.

He could hear her stirring in the kitchen, so he took another sip to distract himself. Alertness was slowly creeping in, and with it came an awareness of all of the usual pains of _morning_; with a barely-repressed groan, Tahno leaned his back against the seat—coffee still in hand—and tried the waiting game, as well as a few other imagery tricks to help expedite the process. Just as Tahno was considering how grateful he was that he _hadn't_ decided to wear Mako's loose-fitting shorts, a blundering Mako conveniently popped into his mind wearing nothing but a fruit-basket hat, and—_voila!_ All of his problems regarding morning wood were promptly resolved.

"All right," she said with an air of finality, abruptly marching back into the living room. Tahno nearly spilled coffee on his pants. (Given their track record thus far, he had a guess as to how that reaction might have exploded, and he did _not _need to think about how they probably would have solved the issue, okay?) "I need to get going, and I can't leave you here alone. I got you a kickstart, so put on your shirt and scram."

_Put on my...? _

_Ah, _he thought, looking down. His shirt. _Where is...?_

A bundle of fabric hit him on the face, almost spilling his coffee. Again. (Honestly, he wasn't going to be held responsible for anything that happened within the confines of her apartment if she was going to keep—)

"It must have offended you deeply sometime late in the night. I woke up and found it flung all the way over by the toaster."

Once more, Tahno became very consciously aware of the fact that he had spent the night on her couch... and as he clutched the shirt in his fist, Tahno decided that he wasn't so sure how he felt about her having woken up so much earlier than him.

"I think I may have suffered a heat stroke somewhere around two," he muttered, setting his coffee cup on the table so he could snake his arms through the holes. He could _feel _how much of a mess his hair was—with or without her help, thank you very much—which meant that he needed a shower, and he needed one _soon_.

"Trust me, I know. I used to prefer being bundled up in the cold, just like I used to prefer water over coffee, or anything else for that matter. Asami has a way of creeping her influence on me in strange and unexpected ways."

"If you like the cold so much, then why the hell do you keep the heat up while she's gone?" he demanded.

"Because she can tell when it's been turned off," Korra shrugged thoughtfully. "And trust me: it's not worth it."

_Ah. Speaking of._

"Are you going to mention this to her?"

"I will when we go over the contract," she shrugged again, taking a sip of her coffee and looking him over. His beater was back on, but he felt very exposed under her gaze. "Knowing her, she'll probably be proud that we didn't kill each other. She seems to think I hate your guts."

Tahno scoffed, slipping on his jacket. "Don't you?"

"Of course," Korra chirped. "But significantly less so after the second cup."


	35. he saw the dawning of a new era

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.**  
Word Count: **135**  
Author's Notes: **_4/20/12_. Tumblr is a hot mess with TAHNO WEEK QUICKLY APPROACHING. The Tahno and Tahnorra tags are lively again and it has me feeling inspired! ;D ALSO, BEAUTIFUL FANART FOR THIS FIC BY **idontliveinatent **on tumblr! Check it out!

**Gifted To: **_littlehealersenna_  
(Who requested Tahnorra fluff on Tahnorra tag!)

* * *

**That one afternoon**

_he saw the dawning of a new era._

* * *

"Next guest, please!"

With a sigh, Tahno stepped forward to the counter. His eyes weren't looking at anything in particular, but he still couldn't seem to raise them to meet the cashier's.

(He was being ridiculous.)

"Do you need another moment to decide, sir?"

"No," he snapped. "I know what to order."

Bu the kid behind the counter didn't look so sure. "Do you have one of our to-go cups?"

Tahno handed over the durable contraption with a sniff of disdain. He knew his irritation with the young man in the apron was unfounded—_college kid, no doubt; he looks cocky and terrified all at once_—but it wasn't really the most pressing of his concerns.

He scowled.

"One caffe mocha, extra hot. No whipped cream."

(And so it began.)


	36. Mako showed up at the lab (Part I)

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.**  
Word Count: **1,130**  
Author's Notes: **_4/21/12_. MORE MORE MORE BEAUTIFUL FANART FOR THIS FIC BY **idontliveinatent **on tumblr! Please go look!

**Gifted To: **_territorry_  
(This is the precursor to _another _prompt that she actually gave me... which will be arriving soon.)

* * *

**That one night**

_Mako showed up at the lab._

* * *

"What are you doing here?"

Korra blinked up at him in surprise. She was settled over the couch, surrounded by documents, and was flipping a pen noisily over her knuckles. (In a word: _normal_.) And yet, he hadn't expected to find her there, just as she conversely hadn't expected his surprise.

"These are my Friday hours," she replied. He frowned at her underlying _duh, _but then she smiled. "Is that for me?"

Tahno glanced down at the to-go cup in his hand with a frown. He heaved a sigh and held it out for her to retrieve, but her look made it clear that she was in no hurry to leave the couch. As he grudgingly walked it over, he scowled, "I texted you that I would be late."

"I still want to get paid, dude," she scoffed. "And besides—if I hadn't been here, then my coffee would have gotten cold." She then shifted deeper into the armrest and glued her gaze back to her paperwork—tired of him already, apparently. _I see my usefulness for the day has been fulfilled..._

His bag dropped to his desk with a heavy thud. Tahno considered putting up an argument, but the truth of the matter was that he'd hit his caffeine crash hours ago and he'd yet to recover. So instead he slipped off his jacket—revealing a fresh shirt, one that _would _be better protected—and asked, "How'd you even get in here, anyway?"

"Tenzin gave me a spare key at the beginning of the semester."

Tahno's frown deepened. _Funny. I don't remember him mentioning that_. "Of course," he grumbled.

But as he sat down at his desk and began arranging his materials for the evening, he considered the truth; for as much of a fuss as he was outwardly making about her general—_annoying, immature, childish_—antics, Tahno really wasn't all that torn up about the return to normalcy. (Here, things made sense. Here, in _his_ territory, the roles were clear-cut. Concrete.) For the next hour or so, they bantered and bickered as usual—picking up right where they left off, just like riding a bike, or humming the memorable tune of one's favorite song.

It was just as he was on the verge of forgetting that the previous night had ever happened, however, that his intern glanced down at her cellphone for what must have been the seventeenth time that evening, and he snapped, "It's not a frickin' crystal ball, you know."

(He briefly wondered if she was texting Mako, and how he could go about altering the lab's policies to limit cellphone use. For safety's sake.)

But Korra looked troubled. "It's Asami," she mumbled, more to herself than to him. "She's been texting me all afternoon... Things aren't going very well with her dad, I guess."

Tahno hesitated. "Is that... unusual?"

"Generally, it's the opposite," she sighed, eyes still locked on the screen. "The problem is that for someone who loves to drive so freakin' much—and she has a _nice_ car, too—oftentimes she'll get picked up by one of her dad's fancy limos and drive out of town in style... which means that more often than not, she'll end up getting stranded when things go sour. Same with in town, too; her last date with Iroh, her ex-boyfriend, is a perfect example." Korra shook her head mournfully. "She let him drive, but they got in a fight, so she had to call in for an emergency pick-up... and winded up getting you instead."

"Emergency pick-up, indeed," he murmured. "Isn't that a bit harsh for your dear friend Mako? Though I do suppose you would know him better than most."

When his intern didn't even bother to spare him a second glance, let alone a witty comeback, Tahno concluded that things were probably a bit more serious than he'd realized. "Hey," he tried again. "Did you hear me? I said that your—" Suddenly, a _blip! _rang from his pocket. _Oh, __now__ she looks up._

"Great," she muttered from across the room. "It looks like she's texting you now, too. Is it about her dad?"

Still a little put out, Tahno whipped the phone from his pocket and flipped it open, frowning into the screen. "Why would I read you my private messages?"

"_Tahno._"

"Fine," he grumbled, scrolling to the newest text. And then, in a completely different tone: "She wants me to call her."

"You should do it," she responded immediately.

"I'm at work."

Her incredulity was clear—_but of course_, Tahno realized; she couldn't have known the real reasons for his reluctance. "Dude," she complained. "You're not even doing anything. You've been looking at the same document for almost an hour now."

He made a good show of looking affronted, but truthfully, he was a little startled to find that she'd paid such close attention. "I am being _thorough,_" he defended weakly.

"Just call her."

"But I—"

"Oh, for the love of polar bears—just call her already!"

"You are so fucking weird."

"Just do it!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

"_Fine!_"

And as he left the office to take a call he didn't even want to make, he slammed the door behind him.

* * *

Thirty seconds later, he stumbled back in.

She immediately turned a fierce glare upon him, but faltered at his befuddled expression. "That's it? What'd she say?"

"I _told_ you there was no need," he grumbled, collapsing back into his desk chair. Mindlessly, he allowed the seat to swivel back and forth, back and forth.

"Well?"

"She barely even got two words out before she told me that she had it under control and _not to worry_," he mimicked. Tahno huffed. "I don't _worry_."

Korra, however, looked worried. "I wonder what happened," she murmured, staring up at her phone. (Honestly, he didn't know how anyone could possibly think that couch was comfortable.) "She must have needed a favor—there's no way she'd call you for emotional support."

"Now, wait just a second," he began, before he realized that, really, there was no real reason for why he should _want _to argue that point. (Just because it was true didn't mean he was okay with her saying it, and especially not like _that_.)

"So why wouldn't she call me instead?"

"Ever think I might be better at doing favors?"

"Bite me."

"I'm pretty good at that, too."

"Um, excuse me?"

The voice came from behind; a figure stood in the doorway—still left slightly ajar from Tahno's re-entry—and looked over the pair with curious, calculating eyes. His scarf reminded Tahno just how much he hated the color red.

And then it hit him.

_Wait a minute. What in the hell—?_

"Mako?" Korra questioned in surprise, her paperwork spilling to the side as she rose up to better face him. "What are you doing here?"

And then she smiled.

* * *

_Fuck._


	37. Mako showed up at the lab (Part II)

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.**  
Word Count: **3,197**  
Author's Notes: **_5__/5/12_. Happy Tahno-versary, everyone! :D One year ago today, Tahno began his seven-minute-of-airtime career and promptly ruined all of our lives.

**Gifted To: **_territorry_  
(The precursor to _another _prompt that she actually gave me... which will be arriving soon.)

* * *

**That one night**

_Mako showed up at the lab._ (Part II)

* * *

"No, but really," Tahno insisted, brow lowering dangerously. "Why are you here?"

Mako blinked, then sent him a questioning frown. He almost looked like he wasn't going to answer, but then Korra chimed in—

"I thought you were supposed to be studying?"

"Well, I was, but then I ran into Asami—"

"Asami?" she asked, brows sloping downward. "What's she doing on campus? Where was she?"

"Well," Mako coughed, looking a little thrown by the intensity of Korra's curiosity. "I was on my way to the library when I found her waiting at the bus stop. We got to talking, and she told me that she was headed to your lab, so I offered her a ride."

Korra looked very perplexed by this news; she also looked very suspicious, but he had a feeling that her reason was very different from his.

"She was headed _here_?" Korra asked.

"I guess so? I don't know. She tried calling you to say that she was on her way, but couldn't get through." The engineering brat offered up an apologetic shrug. "Something about your inbox being full."

Korra scowled at her phone. "Dammit," she hissed.

"It turned out all right, though," Mako added quickly. "I guess she didn't really know what she wanted to do, anyway, because she told me about all her dad drama on the ride over—"

"She talked to you about him?" An even deeper crease snuck into Korra's brow. _Interesting_, Tahno thought, watching the scene play out with curious, hawkish eyes.

"Just for a little while, yeah. I mean. By the time we got here, she'd decided that it'd be better to just go for a drive and let off some steam." Mako looked around the lab office appraisingly, and frowned. Then Mako turned slightly in his vague direction and mentioned, "That's when you called," before turning back to his intern. Tahno bristled in response, but it went unnoticed. "I guess she thought you'd be working or something."

"We _are_," Tahno confirmed, glowering.

"Wait a minute," Korra muttered thoughtfully. (Did she even _realize_ she was ignoring him or—?) "Go for a drive?" she exclaimed. "With what _car_?"

"Well... Here's the thing," he warily began. Mako's apologetic smile returned in full-force. "She said your car had better mileage."

"_Asami_!"

"She just took your car?" Tahno asked, surprised in spite of himself. He tried not to sputter.

"Technically, they're _both _her cars," she groaned, then jumped to her feet to pace the room. After a beat, Tahno stood as well. (_Hell_ if he was going to allow himself to stay lower than either of—) "God_dammit_, Asami!" she hissed.

"I'm... I'm sure she'll be back soon," Mako offered. As Tahno slowly crossed his arms, haughty and intrigued, he had the distinct feeling that the little ferret was trying to resist the urge to flee. _Maybe the kid's never seen this side of her before?_ Tahno hoped that he scared easily.

"But—all of my stuff!"

Out of nowhere, Mako held up a backpack and closely examined the giant zippered pockets. Tahno hadn't even noticed it. "Is this everything?" he asked.

"That..." Korra frowned. "That _considerate_ little sneak."

"I guess that's a yes," Mako laughed. He adjusted his grip on the fabric handle of the pack, and Korra came closer to relieve him of his burden. They were right next to _his_ desk, just barely an inch away from his trash can. It wasn't doing him much good to just be standing awkwardly over his desk chair, so he shoved a stack of papers to the side and sat down on the wood, then recrossed his arms. He wasn't sure if he should focus more on looking _bored _or _annoyed, _so he aimed for somewhere in the in-between. "So, yeah," Mako continued, unfazed. "She gave me all your stuff to pass on and then took the car and left."

"Well, where is she going?" Tahno dryly asked, barely containing an exasperated sigh. The douchebag didn't even spare a glance in his direction, but Tahno saw the way his jaw tightened. _Good_, he thought, enjoying a private smirk. _So he __is__ paying attention, after all._ Too bad his intern wasn't.

"Who _knows_," Korra huffed, rolling her eyes. "I sure as hell don't."

Somehow, Tahno didn't get the impression that all of this was stacking up very well for him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean she does this sometimes. You know, for someone who doesn't seem to ever take her car when she needs it the most, she does an awful lot of driving herself around when she _could _just come home. When she needs time to think, she just drives. Hits the highway and goes."

"Well," Tahno paused, searching for an appropriate response. _That's hardly sustainable_, is all that came to mind. "That's—"

"Wait a minute," she interrupted, again. Her backpack flew through the air as her arms gestured far and wide. "How the hell am I supposed to get home?"

"Well," Mako began a bit unsteadily. "Since I never heard back from you after you cancelled our plans last night—"

_Oh?_

"Oh," Korra stilled, freezing on the spot. "Right. Crap. Sorry about that."

Tahno was looking at her very intently—very curiously—while _she_ was very pointedly _not _looking in his direction; for some reason, this pleased Tahno greatly. (Because when the word _plans _was followed by the word _cancelled _and came from the mouth of a _douchebag_, then it probably meant that life was about to get a little sweeter.

He wondered if she'd told him the _why._)

"I totally meant to text, but I—I forgot, and then it just got so late and—"

She was visibly flustered, which amused him; so her little boy toy _hadn't _caught wind of their little impromptu slumber party, after all. Tahno was suddenly overcome with the overwhelming urge to witness his reaction. _What would she do? _he wondered, as a gleam of a smirk began to spread over his lips. (Just because she wasn't looking at him didn't mean she couldn't sense it.) _What would she do if I spilled the beans? _The only thing better than having spoiled one of his intern's late-night booty calls with a douchebag classmate would probably be watching the realization play over his hefty, monstrous eyebrows.

"Nah, I figured something came up," Mako responded easily. "Which is why I told Asami I'd drive you home."

(So, naturally, the only thing worse than having one of his intern's late-night booty calls with a douchebag classmate be rescheduled, of course, would probably be watching the rescheduling _take place right in front of his desk_.)

"Ah!" Korra smiled, sending a fist pumping through the air. "Perfect! Let me pack up my stuff."

_Pack—?_

"You still have ten minutes on the clock," Tahno spat, gesturing a long arm toward the device on the wall. (Okay. So that one hadn't been replaced after _The Great and Terrible Flood_, which meant that the world was perpetually set to two-oh-eight, but it didn't make his statement any less accurate.)

"So dock my pay, why don't you?" she chirped, bounding over to the couch—long legs, long strides. Tahno frowned at her good humor.

He scoffed. "So much for wanting to get paid, _dude_."

Without Korra beside him, Mako seemed to feel Tahno's presence all the more clearly. The kid shifted uncomfortably by the desk for a few moments, until he finally settled on crossing his arms. Tahno wasn't about to back down from looking wherever he wanted—it was _his _office—but he was torn; he couldn't decide if it was worse to actually force himself to look at the guy's face—simply out of spite—or to sit there and try the impossible task of ignoring his bulky, lurking presence.

"Hey," Mako called across the room. "I'm just gonna go give Bo a quick call."

By the time Korra turned around, he was already out the door.

Which meant that within precisely two seconds, she was towering over his desk.

"_You._"

Instinctively, Tahno reared back. "What?" he hissed, shell-shocked. His brain should have been devising a hundred-and-one snappy comebacks, but he was still trying to process how in the hell she had gotten so close, so fast. "Me, _what_?"

"You know exactly what," she snapped. His intern roughly shoved a few metal-ringed notebooks from the corner of his desk into her pack. "Stop with the act, Professor Tight-Pants. You're about as intimidating as a llama."

"Okay, first of all, I don't think you've actually seen a fucking llama. They spit. That's not my game. Secondly: _what?_"

"You heard me," she glared, zipping up her backpack with a ferocious twist. "Knock it off."

"Excuse me, are you scolding me for being unhappy about your little plaything being in _my _office?"

"I'm _warning _you that you're being a dick."

"A bit of a waste, in my opinion."

_Blip!_

He and Korra both paused, glancing toward the vibrating cellphones in their pockets, then back at each other. "Asami," they concluded in unison; her voice was dry, his voice was not.

Tahno checked his message right away. When he looked up, smiling, he was delighted to see that Korra was looking just as troubled as ever. "Looks like your roommate could use a little stress relief this evening," he drawled, shifting further onto the desk. He leaned the slightest bit closer to her, pretending to glance at her screen. Expectedly, she snatched the phone away with a glare. "How lucky for her that I just so happen to be free."

"Don't take it too personally," Korra dryly warned, crossing her arms as she stared him down. "You're the only alternative to ice cream she has, and pistachio isn't on sale."

"Lucky for _me_, pistachio is never on sale."

"Holy hell, Tahno. You actually make me want to cut coupons."

"Don't bother. I come with my own rewards card."

"Ugh," Korra covered her eyes. "Why does that sound so gross?"

"You do realize, however," Tahno smoothly continued. Absently, he took a pen from the mug sitting in the corner of his desk and flipped it over the line of his knuckles. She might not have realized it, but her stormy eyes followed the movement intently. "That this provides us with the perfect opportunity to test out our new arrangement."

"_What_ arrangement?"

He grinned.

_Bingo._

"Oh—oh, no. No fucking _way_, Professor Tight-Pants!"

"Did you not agree that I have the newfound right to request visitation stays?" he asked silkily.

"Not when I—" Korra broke off, frantically glancing through the window shades out into the lobby. He had no idea what she saw, or where Mako was, but the next thing she did was lower herself down to his level and hiss, in a much quieter voice, "Not when _I _am entertaining _guests_, myself."

Tahno's lips curled downward. "Condition Number Twenty-Seven," he announced. "If at any point the Romantic Roommate finds herself in a time of distress—"

"Wait a minute. You fucking memorized them?"

"Professor Tight-Pants should and _will_ have an acceptable reason to request an overnight visitation stay, so that proper consolation may be rendered, and so that the cost-effective alternative to ice cream may be put to use."

"But _not _while I am getting it on with Mako!"

His scowl deepened. "There is nothing in the contract stipulating that."

"There doesn't need to be—it's my fucking apartment!"

"As well as hers," he countered reasonably, leaning back to admire his handy work. She looked positively ready to blow. "And until an amendment can be added to allow for Mutual Party Roommate vetoes in honor of facilitating douchebag hook-ups, you have nothing to stand on."

"Asami hasn't even signed the contract yet!"

"But it is a valid document," he reminded her, feeling his lips slide over his teeth. (It'd been a while since he'd enjoyed feeling so smug.) "You said so yourself."

"Tahno," she nearly growled, edging closer to where he sat on the desk; any closer and he'd be forced to lean back, but still, he held his ground. "I am not fucking around with you."

(_Too bad_, his mind thought, before he could stop it.)

"I can't imagine why Asami wouldn't approve of such a proposal."

Korra slammed her hands onto the desk, and the noise sent shockwaves through his spine. "While you _would_ dare proposition this out of spite, there is no _way_ that Asami would agree to it so soon after the Valentine's Day Debacle," she spat. "Give it up, Tahno. This is petty, even for you."

Tahno ignored the vibrations still echoing in his bones. "I guess you'll just have to wait until this evening," he nonchalantly replied, leaning back to get a better look at the full effects of his craftsmanship. "Perhaps I'll be seeing you in the kitchen after dinner?"

Her lips thinned to an invisible line, which surprised him. His intern was not known for reeling in her emotions, and this display of restraint almost seemed unnatural in comparison with the blow-out he was expecting. Suddenly, Tahno felt like _he _was the one on the defensive, and forced his eyes not to stray from her face. She was very, very close.

"This isn't over, Tahno," she whispered.

He ignored the urge to swallow and, with the slightest tilt of his head, he considered her: the long hair, dark skin, fierce expression... and the dark, navy blue sweatshirt. Tahno let out a slow, saccharine smirk, feeling it spread long and wide in the reflection of her eyes.

"I hope not," he whispered genuinely.

She faltered—just a tick, a tiny fraction of movement—but her cover was shattered all the same. Tahno watched in earnest as she struggled to figure him out—_good luck—_and he watched with rapt attention as she shifted her eyes up, down, across his face, searching for clues that he wasn't even entirely sure he knew of himself... But within moments, what had started as entertainment morphed into something closer to unease, for Tahno was doing a lot less of the staring down and a lot more of the staring _into_, and she was a lot closer than he remembered. For a split second, he imagined what it would be like if... if he _were _to return to her apartment that night, if maybe the contract were just _slightly_ diff—

"All set," Mako announced into the door frame. Tahno had been made aware of his presence a second before his arrival, thanks to the way his intern had bolted upright and whipped her backpack over her shoulders. She was looking at the engineering kid now, undeterred, as if nothing had even happened. Tahno was sitting tall and strong at the edge of his desk—back straight, chin high—but if he were to bite any harder into his cheek, he'd be drawing blood.

"Great," Korra smiled, slightly out of breath. Tahno frowned.

"Ready to go?" Mako asked, already opening the door. "That is... if you're not gonna lose any money over a few stolen minutes."

She huffed, sliding a disdainful glare his way. Tahno returned it whole-heartedly. "Believe me," she said. "I've put in more than enough overtime to make up for it. And I've already paid my dues for the day."

"In that case, I sure hope you've remembered to cut some coupons," he offered lazily, with a meaningful eye. "Not that it will do you much good in this economy, what with all your apartment's ice cream habits."

"Is that _so_?"

"I'm afraid it is," he responded gravely. "Oh, and by the way—I hear that newly-_engineered_ flavor is on the cheap side, but you should know that it won't be long before it melts."

Korra's eyes narrowed. "Our ice cream is just _fine_, thank you," she hissed. "And you can be _certain _that I will be encouraging Asami to cut coupons herself during these very _trying _times, so thank you for the reminder."

Tahno enunciated, very carefully, "With pleasure."

To this, Korra offered a stiff and formal nod, and for another all-consuming moment, she was all he saw: tight lips, tight jaw, tight expression—_tight pants_—and he was again overcome with the sudden urge to move.

It was precisely at that moment, of course, that Mako turned to Korra and asked: "What are you guys talking about?"

(And just like that, his almost-victory shattered.

_Victory? _his mind stumbled. _Over what?_)

Korra turned to her classmate with bright eyes, and Tahno's only thought was _shit_, because he knew that look, he recognized the cogs twisting in her brain, and—

"You know," she slowly began, looking Mako very seriously in the eye. "I am very much in the mood for ice cream. Would you like to join me for some?"

Mako, who had begun to look a little worried amidst all the banter, brightened considerably now that her undivided attention was focused back on him. Tahno resisted the urge to gag as they looked at one another, caught up in the warmth of each other's gazes. _Oh, spare me_.

"Yeah," he amiably agreed, holding the door open wider. At this moment, Tahno was naught but a forgotten detail in this kid's psyche; so it was here, naturally, that Tahno decided Mako had sealed his fate. Tahno was _not _so easily forgotten. "Don't worry—my treat."

Korra laughed, bright and genuine and real. She adjusted the straps on her shoulders, stepped forward, and said, "Mako, who are you kidding? You'll have a heart attack over the frivolous spending. Save your money for something else."

"But—"

"Don't worry," Korra assured him, sparing a single glance back toward the desk, where Tahno was still watching.

(He couldn't see her face when she said it, but that didn't piss him off any less.)

"It's on me," she promised, just as the door swung closed behind her.

* * *

Tahno leaned back in the chair, heels propped carelessly over a pile of something or other upon his desk, his cellphone tapping absently against his lips. His brows were drawn, his skin was taut, and his mind was restless.

Finally, after another moment of contemplation, Tahno pulled the phone away and flipped it open, staring fixedly down toward the screen in his hand. A few buttons here, a quick ring or two, and—

"Asami," he drawled, sweet and low. "There you are. Your dear friend Mako paid us a visit in the lab today, which has gotten me thinking a great deal about your dilemma. You see... I believe I have the perfect solution."

(And perfect, it was.)


	38. of drunken phone calls (Part II)

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.**  
Word Count: **2,271**  
Author's Notes: **_5/7/12_. Going to be taking a break from _That One Night _and _Personal Record _for the next week or so. (I'm posting the final installment of _gray skies ahead_ on the 13th and I have less than a week to tie it all up.) In the meantime, here's the continuation to our Friday night. There will be one more piece to this Friday adventure, and then... we move onto Saturday. ;)

**Gifted To: **_likeabirdinflight_

* * *

**That one night**

_of drunken phone calls. _(Part II)

* * *

(Or, at least, it would have been perfect.

If he'd actually gotten a chance.)

* * *

"Dude, what _happened _to you?"

Having known Shaozu and Ming for quite some many years, it should have been far easier to ignore them by now; Tahno offered his drinking mates a cursory glance, a roll of the eyes, and then promptly returned to opening the handle of vodka.

"Tahno, man, I am all for drinking on a budget, but we haven't drunk vodka this cheap since undergrad," Shaozu complained, peering at the label. "We can afford the good stuff now, remember? That's what the diplomas are for!"

"And Tahno you hated drinking this stuff even when we didn't have much of a choice," Ming frowned. He swiped the bottle from the countertop as Tahno reached for the shot glasses in the highest cabinet, but Tahno quickly snatched it back with a warning glare. Ming glanced his old roommate over curiously and asked, "What gives?"

"Yeah," Shaozu leaned forward, examining Tahno's busy form with critical eyes. "I haven't seen you this determined to get drunk since—"

"What," Tahno snapped, slamming the shot glasses onto the granite. "The alcohol snob can't take a day off?"

"Not if the snob is _you_," Ming countered with a peculiar frown. "Things might have been different years ago, but now you hardly take a day off for anything—in any aspect of your life."

"So now I'm a workaholic _and _an alcoholic?"

"I never said that," Ming huffed, crossing his arms. "And now you're just deflecting, which makes me even more curious as to why we are drinking such cheap liquor."

Tahno scoffed. "Who said any of this was for either of you?"

Ming and Shaozu shared a look, nodded, then converged.

"_Hey!_ What the—_you fucking_—"

"The couch?" Ming asked casually, as he held tighter to Tahno's left shoulder, which writhed and jerked against him.

"No, too generous," Shaozu decided, trapping Tahno's other side in his own strong grasp. "Tahno, if you keep moving, you're going to spill this perfectly cheap vodka all over your lovely tiled floors."

"Put me _down_, you stupid—"

"Ming, did you grab the good stuff from the fridge?"

"Already in my bag. And did you remember to grab the glasses from—"

"Already one step ahead of you."

"Mother_fucking—_!"

"Splendid," Ming deemed, leading their party toward the bathroom. "I'm thinking more along the lines of the tub."

"Fucking—_assholes_! I can fucking walk, you useless—I don't know why I even fucking _put up with_—"

"Wonderful," Shaozu squeezed tighter, narrowly missing a jab of the elbow—though he wasn't quick enough to escape Tahno's whipping hair.

"Just like old times."

* * *

"Spill," Shaozu demanded.

Tahno blearily glared up from where he sat, crowded and tangled in awkward angles in the tub he rarely used, and remained silent. His arms were crossed, and even though it was hot as hell in his small-ish bathroom with three people and a jacket still on, he refused to move. He refused to do much of anything, actually.

"So that's how we're going to play it, are we?" Ming nodded solemnly, throwing back another shot. The dramatic effect was lessened by the gruesome scrunching of his face, and the deep cough that tore apart his already burning throat. "Balls," he rasped, reaching over to the sink faucet to fill his shot glass with something to chase down the fire. "This is fucking poison. I hope you realize how much of a testament this is to our devotion to you."

Tahno snorted. "Please. You're still hoarding the decent shit in your bag."

"Yet we're drinking _your _marvelous purchase with you first," Shaozu grimaced, slamming down another shot himself.

"Because when we suffer, we suffer _together,_" Ming added, eyes starting to cloud—whether it was from alcohol or memory, Tahno couldn't be sure.

"Goddamn," Shaozu hissed. "How the fuck did we survive off this for four years?"

"If memory serves, I believe there wasn't much left to taste after the first few shots," Tahno slowly drawled, leaning his head back against the shower tiles. The coolness was refreshing against his sweating skin, but his head was starting to feel light from the heat and the sluggish effects of his drink. His limbs were growing heavy.

"This is madness," Ming groaned, eyeing the already half-empty bottle. "By the time we even reach the good stuff, our sense of taste will have been seared away."

"So go ahead and give up, for all I care," Tahno muttered, rolling his eyes. "I didn't say it was for you in the first place."

"We're drinking it so that _you _can't," Shaozu pointed an accusing finger into the tub. "I believe that's what they call friendship."

"I don't think it necessarily includes trapping someone inside their own bathroom," Tahno countered, eyeing the prepared shot they'd left for him on the tub's ridge, just a foot away. And then: "I could still run, you know."

Ming snorted into his glass. "You could try."

Tahno scowled.

* * *

"It's the intern, isn't it?"

Tahno's spine stiffened so quickly, it nearly snapped.

"_What?_"

"The last time you got this sloppy, it was because your intern hadn't shown up for work," Shaozu remembered aloud, twirling the clear, sharp-smelling liquid in his glass.

"I am _not _sloppy."

"You will be, at the rate you're going," Ming predicted, watching with interest as Tahno clenched his fingers over his empty shot glass. Tahno's frown slipped lower.

"First I'm an alcoholic, then I'm not drinking enough of my own shitty vodka, and now I'm drinking too much again?" Tahno huffed. "Will you make up your damn minds?"

"Again, never said that," Ming argued, leaning back against toilet tank more comfortably. He was seated over the lid, and Shaozu had already barricaded himself against the door, so as much as Tahno had hated to admit it, there really was no way out. "What I'd like to see, however, is for _you_ to make up your damn mind."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Come on, man," Shaozu nearly groaned. "We're not stupid. You don't think we don't know what's going on here?"

"And _what_, might I ask," Tahno managed through gritted teeth. "Is it that you _think _is going on?"

Ming leaned closer and gravely said, "I think that you know exactly what it is that we know that you know is going on."

"Dude," Shaozu chimed from the floor. "We've known for like, a while."

"Then enlighten me."

"Oh, no," Ming shook his head. "We're not gonna be the ones to say it. It's high time you grew a pair and admitted it for yourself."

"Admit _what_?"

"Seriously?" Shaozu exclaimed. "_Seriously_?"

"Seriously, _what_?"

"Ming," Shaozu sighed, holding out his glass for another drink. "I can't deal with this."

Tahno's anger soared. "Listen, here, you good-for-nothing—"

_Blip! _

The next thing Tahno knew, he was being pinned to the porcelain enameled steel, wrestling and wrangling two strong pairs of arms for the cellphone in his pocket. Vodka from someone's glass had flown into his face, so now he could feel the acrid stickiness seeping into his hair, his nose, and his mouth. A few choice expletives spilled from his mouth as he spat and coughed his way back to regaining his senses, but someone's knee was still in his stomach and someone's arm was bracing his chest, and before he knew it, his cellphone had been ripped right from the left pocket of his jeans, and he was left gasping for air and sanity as Ming leaned back onto his new seat on the tiled floor and flipped it open.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Tahno demanded, rushing forward—but halted when a rush of breath was forced from his chest; the sole of Shaozu's boot was still placed firmly against his sternum. "That's—that's private, you imbecile!" he gasped.

"Like you ever gave a damn about anyone's privacy," Ming smirked, tapping a few buttons.

"Ming," he clawed at his arm. "I am _warning _you—"

But then Ming frowned. He was staring thoughtfully into the screen, and paused long enough that even Shaozu looked intrigued. Tahno's stomach dropped and turned cold.

"You have a text from your intern," he said finally. When Ming's eyes peered back up in his direction, he tried his best to look formidable, which wasn't very easy.

"So?" he scowled.

"So... it's not that unusual for her to text you on Friday nights, after all?" Shaozu prompted.

"No. I mean, yes—it doesn't happen _often_. Only occasionally, but even then, it's business and there isn't anything strange about an intern texting her supervisor, for fuck's sake."

"Does she always include winky faces?"

"Of course no—_what_?"

Ming pointed to the screen. "You, good sir, have received a winky face."

Tahno's nostrils flared. "What does—what does the rest of it say?" he asked, apparently without any real concern for his pretense of indifference. (A half-hearted attempt _might_ have still been there, but if so, it was quickly and surely dying.)

Ming frowned. "Do you have any idea what she might mean by... '_better luck next time_'?"

"Um... Tahno?" Shaozu tried, watching warily from the floor. "Tah—?"

"That... _little—_"

Tahno couldn't even _think_. Every muscle in his arms felt tight and hot, and the minor dizziness became a full-on head rush. Something was pulling his stomach out from under him, a red-hot hook and an icy cord that dipped and yanked at his insides, and when the exhale blew past his gritted teeth—as the crack of his skull against the tiles danced all the way down his spine—it took him a moment to realize that the crackling snarl he heard was actually coming from him.

"Um. Tahno, what—?"

"_Who does she think she is!_"

"I don't get it—what does it mean? Tahno, what's the—?"

"That little—that _little_ fucking—"

"Jesus, Tahno, snap out of it! Just calm the fuck down and explain so we don't have frickin' heart attacks over here!"

"This is—_unbelievable_," he spat, giving the edge of the tub a brutal kick. "That she would—that she would _dare_—and to rub it in my face! As if it weren't already—as if it weren't already _bad enough—_"

"Tahno, I am about three seconds away from calling her myself to get a fucking clue as to wha—"

"Don't you fucking dare!"

"Then fucking out with it!" Ming demanded. For a moment, Tahno almost complied; eyes locked, jaws set, nostrils flared, and then Tahno snarled away his gaze, and drove the side of his fist into the wall. Ming watched one of the tiles rattle between the grout. "You are _not _helping your case, man!"

"Though this is certainly helping to explain the cheap liquor a bit more."

"Shut _up_, Shaozu!" Ming hissed.

"What, you gonna disagree?"

"Shut up, both of you!" Tahno snapped, flinging a hand through the air. "And you! Give me back my fucking phone!"

"No way! Not after _that_ shit show! I want to know what the hell happened with your intern today that has compelled you to get Grade A-Freshman Plastered."

"You're calling _me—_"

"Who's Asami?"

Tahno and Ming paused—fists still raised, faces still close—and looked over to Shaozu, who was sitting calmly on the floor nearby, casually scrolling through Tahno's cellphone.

"How did you—?"

"Give that back," Tahno hissed, snatching the phone away and roughly shoving it back into his pocket. He was already starting to feel that headache again.

"Isn't that the girl you're seeing now?" Ming speculated, rubbing his knuckles along his jaw in thought. (It was one of his habits, Tahno knew, but he'd also managed to clock him there sometime in the last two minutes, so that also made it considerably more satisfying.)

Tahno's scowl was answer enough.

"And... would the reason why you're so whiny tonight have anything to do with the fact that this Asami chick cancelled your plans?" Shaozu asked.

"Yikes. That is a bona fide Tahno pout. It must be," Ming deemed, leaning back and reaching for what was left of the bottle, narrowly avoiding an angry swipe. He and Shaozu seemed perfectly content to resume their bathroom-drinking adventure, but Tahno's skin wouldn't stop crawling.

"You're already in too deep," Shaozu reminded him, setting down another shot within Tahno's reach. "Might as well tell us what this Asami girl and your intern have to do with one another, because we're gonna find out anyway." With a groan-come-growl and a serious twisting in his gut, Tahno pitched forward and dropped his head into his hands.

"They're roommates," he told them through his fingers, defeated.

"Roommates?" Shaozu perked. "That's ambitious, even for you."

"Uhh... Shaozu?" Ming tried hesitantly, glancing warily toward a half-sodden Tahno. (Speckled with alcohol in an old bathtub on a Friday night with two loser friends who wouldn't share their quality liquor.

This was his life now.)

"What?"

"Something tells me that... that's not _quite_ what's going on here."


	39. of drunken phone calls (Part III)

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed._**  
**_**Word Count: **2,308**  
Author's Notes: **_5/14/12. _Well, as many of you know, the final installment of _gray skies ahead _was posted yesterday! It was the one-year anniversary of _break the ice_, so it was especially meaningful. :) But I felt that I needed something a little lighter to get me back in the zone... and this is what happened.

**Gifted To: **_likeabirdinflight_

* * *

**That one night**

_of drunken phone calls. _(Part III)

* * *

"So they're roommates. What's the big deal?"

Tahno's head rolled to the side. His eyes felt glassy and his brain felt like mush. "If only that were the half of it," he muttered spitefully. Ming's eyes narrowed with curiosity, but Shaozu didn't hear.

"Did she, like, turn you down or something?"

"Why are we talking about this?" Tahno snapped, turning away from Ming's inquisitive stare. "There is nothing going on between me and my intern, _okay?_"

"So... you haven't made a move yet?"

Tahno deadpanned. "What."

Shaozu and Ming slowly turned toward one another and shared a familiar look: _Uh-oh_, they cried. Tahno could feel his indignation welling up within his chest. "Well, shit," Shaozu muttered, still looking warily into Ming's equally-worried eyes. "It's no wonder, then."

"All right, assholes—what the hell are you talking about?"

"It sounds like he's still in denial," Ming gravely offered, rubbing his knuckles along his jaw again. "This might be more difficult than we thought."

"I swear to God, you two, if you don't—"

"We believe you, man," Ming turned to him. His seriousness immediately drew Tahno's suspicion.

"Believe _what_?" he demanded.

"What you said just now. About there not being anything going on between you and your intern."

Tahno's eyes narrowed skeptically. "You do."

"But we also know something that you don't know."

"And what, exactly, would that be?"

Ming leaned in close and looked him straight in the eye.

"That you _want_ there to be."

(And it was at that point, of course—

—that Tahno's mind promptly exploded.)

_Preposterous! Absurd! _"Ridiculous," Tahno sniped, crossing his arms. "She is the bane of my existence. A constant thorn in my side. And—just in case you've forgotten—I happen to be fucking her hot roommate, who is far more agreeable and cooperative. And much hotter."

"Well," Ming chuckled. "There's gotta be something about your intern then, because you've got it bad."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Admit it, Tahno," Shaozu winked. "You want her."

"I _wa—_I _what_?"

"Oh, for—give it up, man! You've been obsessed with this chick ever since she started working at the lab. It's been, like—months now."

"Um, yes, about what a colossal pain in my _ass _she has been—"

"Like, all I hear anymore is _bacteria this _and _intern that—_it's all you have in conversation topics anymore!"

"In case you've forgotten, I am a _scientist_ in a _doctoral _program who is conducting _research—_"

"With a really hot, young assistant. Hey. You know what? I've never even seen this girl. Or her supposedly hotter roommate. Where'd that phone go? There's gotta be—"

"I can assure you, I do_ not_ and will not _ever_ have any pictures for your perusal," Tahno snapped, clutching the phone tighter in his pocket. "Now, seriously, I'm done with this nonsense. I've got a lot of alcohol to drink tonight, so either change the topic and help me drink it or get the fuck out."

"Did you ask her to join you for drinks tonight?" Shaozu asked, only half-teasing. Ming continued to merely watch, the ever-fucking-observant one. "Is that why you're such a hot mess? I wouldn't be surprised if she declined, what with this shitty selection."

"Shaozu, we already discovered that he has _not _put the moves on her yet," Ming patiently reminded him. "Hence the drinking party."

"There aren't any moves to be put _on_!"

"And _that _is what's hard for me to believe," Shaozu turned back to a fuming Tahno. "Who are you and what have you done with the real Tahno?"

Tahno blinked, stunned. "All right, motherfucker. That's quite enough for you—"

Shaozu easily held up the sole of his boot, effectively planting rubber into Tahno's sternum. The arm that had been reaching out for the bottle of vodka fell uselessly back to his side. He tried to maintain his balance, but swayed dangerous over the lip of the tub. "The Tahno I know could get any poor, unsuspecting lady friend that he'd like. You wanna tell me how you, of all people, are struggling to face the obvious truth of the hots you have for your assistant?"

"This is _ridiculous_. For the last time, I am not fucking attracted to my intern!"

"Not at _all_?" Ming prompted.

"Well—it's not like—I _am_ a fucking human being, you know!"

"Literally, actually," Shaozu added, as Tahno snarled. "But that's beside the point. And look! You're doing it again. Why's this so hard? Just admit that you think she's hot or cute, or whatever."

"Or..." Ming gaze slid very carefully over his face, and Tahno's stomach flipped all over again. "Maybe... there's more?"

Shaozu looked shocked. Ming looked pensive. Tahno was ready to punch them both in the face.

"You two are fucking psychotic," Tahno accused, tearing himself away from Shaozu's boot and gripping the edge of the tub tight between his palms. "First of all, she is the roommate of the very attractive, very sexy woman with whom I am regularly not-sleeping—with whom I vastly _enjoy _not-sleeping . Not to mention the obvious fact that she is my _intern _and that as her supervisor I am technically responsible for her contributions to the lab's development and_—oh!_ Did I not mention? She is the fucking _goddaughter _of my cooperating professor, who I partner with on all fronts of my research, and who is sponsoring my attendance at the _conference_! Do you have any idea what impression that could leave, for me to be attracted to the goddaughter of the man who is essentially ruling over the approval of my doctoral thesis? Or the repercussions of _acting _on that attraction? And do you have any idea how fucking long it took me to get an intern in the first place? And the only reason that I even got her in the first place was because Tenzin took pity—but not on me, _oh no_. He did _her _a favor because she is apparently bored with the subject matter that this school is practically throwing money at her to study—"

"Whoah, what?"

"—and even if I _could _manage to find another intern before my dissertation defense—which I couldn't, because _who the hell in their right mind_ wants to study swamp bacteria?—there's no way that I would be able to train them in time—she's already had five months of on-going experience and—_and_—"

Seriously, Tahno's head was starting to hurt.

"Damn," Shaozu nodded, not trying very hard to hide his smile. "You sure know how to pick 'em."

"_Not_ helping, Shaozu," Ming hissed, sending a wary glance in his direction.

But Tahno wasn't looking. In fact, Tahno was sitting cross-legged in the tub, with his elbows on the edge and his head in his hands. His eyes were closed. He looked like he was barely even breathing.

"_Fuck._"

"Um," Shaozu blinked, frowning thoughtfully. "Tahno?"

He didn't respond at first, and when he did, it was so low it was unintelligible. "Tahno?" Ming tried, sparing a quick glance to his partner in crime, who merely offered a confused shrug. "What'd you say?"

Tahno buried his face even deeper into his hands and muttered, "I want her."

"You... you what?"

"I _said_... I think... I want her."

"You... want her?" Ming repeated, leaning closer. "Who? The roommate? Or the intern?"

"Or maybe even both?"

"_Shaozu._"

"What! It's a valid question, and anyway, it looks like I've hit the mark."

"Then let him say so, for chrissake! Give him a chance. Here, go ahead, Tahno. Say it again."

Abruptly, Tahno returned to his senses. "What the fuck? You're going to make me repeat it? _Again_? No fucking way. I've had enough of you two and your crazy for one evening. Get the fuck out of my bathroom."

"But—we're making such progress!"

Tahno's nostrils flared. "Progress?" he echoed, nodding his head, jaw tight. "_Progress?_"

(And there it was again—the trademark shared look of: _uh-oh._)

"Let me tell you about fucking progress. Progress is finding an intern at all, let alone a mostly competent one who knows how to organize and label files properly. Progress is being invited to one of the country's most prestigious conferences and then being told that you're a main presenter. Progress is _not_ going from telling someone not to climb a fucking tree, and then essentially being called an idiot after you ask them not to die—"

"Um. _Wha_—?"

"—to telling someone that their boyfriend is a _dick_, only to find out that he's not a boyfriend at all, and then that what they're actually, really doing is messing around in between fucking lab shifts—"

"Tahno—"

"—after you've just spent the _fucking _night with her in her fucking apartment—"

"Oh my god, _what? _Slow down!"

"—and you didn't expect to wake up without a shirt, but lo and _fucking behold_, it's the morning and you have no shirt—and there's coffee everywhere—but she already tried to make you wear the shorts—"

"Fuck, he's drunk. It's finally starting to hit him... Quick—lower him down, lower him _down_, Shaozu!"

"—and who the fuck gave her the right to get with _that_—that imbecile douchebag, anyway?" he slurred, unsuccessfully brushing away his ex-teammates helpful hands. Shaozu's and Ming's arms steadied the swaying Tahno like a very unfortunate game of reverse-tug-o-war. "I never wanted to wear his shorts, anyway!"

"So you're jealous?" Shaozu grunted, struggling to bring the flailing Tahno down without cracking either of their heads on the ceramic.

"Fuck, no—I don't—not jealous," Tahno shoves the man on his right, glaring hard. "I don't _do _jealous."

"Just like you don't _want _your intern."

"I want her," Tahno grumbled, brows creasing deeply into his forehead. (To Ming, it looked like it physically _pained _him to say so... but then again, it could have just been the alcohol, too.) "Fuck. I do. I fucking want her. I want my intern."

Ming released a heavy sigh. "I think it's time for the couch," he decided, lifting Tahno up and out of the tub. "He'll sleep it off."

"Think he'll need the garbage?"

"Please, you asshole. I'm not even drunk."

Ming gave the sloppy mess in his arms a pointed look, but shook a stiff nod to Shaozu. "Nah. He's drunk, but he's still using the word _please_. I think we're good."

"Fuck," Tahno muttered to himself, his body listless, with his feet being dragged across the floor. "I want my fucking intern. I want to _fuck _my intern. I want to fuck my intern a lot. I want _a lot_ to fuck my intern a lot."

"I think he's broken," Shaozu whispered, forgetting that his mouth was just two centimeters from Tahno's ear.

"I want to break _her,_" Tahno continued._ "_I want—I _want_ what I want. Enough of this shit. I want what I want. Nobody sends me a goddamn smiley face and proceeds to have sex with douchebag dicks while I get drunk in a bathtub."

"Um. Tahno, what are you—Tahno_, no_."

"Tahno—Tahno put the phone away! Put it away _now_!"

"Enough," Tahno mumbled, fingers fumbling through his pockets. "I'm gonna call her. I'm gonna call her right now."

"Shit, Shaozu, grab his—"

"Tahno, dude, listen to me," Ming took Tahno by the shoulders, feeling only slightly guilty about the brain rattling around in that oversized head of his. Shaozu managed to slip away the phone while Tahno was thusly preoccupied. (It disappeared into his pocket, thankfully for the rest of the night.) "Did you just say she's with this—this other guy?"

"Mako," Tahno spat. (And then literally, too.

"_Gross_," Shaozu complained.)

"Fine, whatever. Didn't you just say she's with this Mako kid?"

"Weren't you listening?" Tahno shouted, wrenching free from his grasp. "That is precisely why I'm calling, you idiot! This girl—she needs to learn that she can't just fuck whoever she wants! That's not how it works!"

"Right—and I'm sure we can convince her of all that... in the _morning_."

"Don't you get it?" Tahno stumbled, falling to the living room couch in his haste to escape their clutches. Mindlessly, Tahno threw a pillow at them, which they easily sidestepped. His arms moved to help himself upward, but between his wobbly balance and poor strength, it was pretty much a lost cause. Tahno frowned grouchily as his forearm sank between the cushions. "He's an imbecile!" he hissed. "A blundering, hulking manchild with a Bachelor's Degree!"

"I see," Ming muttered reassuringly, dropping Tahno's feet onto the armrest so he could sprawl out. "Completely unworthy."

"Utterly," Tahno snapped, twisting onto his back, then nearly getting sick from the movement. "Fuck. What did I... How much did you... Shit."

Ming and Shaozu stood over their nearly-dying friend with sympathetic, smirking gazes. "Our thoughts exactly," Ming slowly replied. "We'll be going to the kitchen now, finishing up the rest of our liquor. Something tells me you'll make it through the rest of the night alive."

"Bastards."

"That we are," Shaozu shrugged good-naturedly. "But then what are you?"

_What... am I?_

"Easy," Tahno grumbled, letting his eyes fall shut. "I am totally and utterly fucked."

* * *

"But I thought the problem that he _wasn't_—"

"Shut up, Shaozu."


	40. Korra got laid

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.**  
Word Count: **291**  
Author's Notes: **_5/15/12. _Please feel free to send me more prompts, guys! I need more filler prompts. :D I want to do another round of banging quick-and-dirty drabbles, so hit me up!

**Gifted To: **_anonymous_

* * *

**That one night**

_Korra got laid. _

* * *

Well. Technically, it was the morning after.

(He was on his way out as she was on her way in—

—which meant that Asami Sato accidentally caught the tail end of one very prolonged _see you later._)

* * *

"Well, hello," Asami smirked, tossing her bag to the floor. She wasn't used to seeing her roommate blush. "I see you got home all right."

(Korra couldn't help it; she crossed her arms, casually gave an indifferent shrug... then unleashed a smile so explosive that her cheeks actually hurt.)

"I don't know if you meant that as an innuendo or not," she said offhandedly, as smugness radiated from her every pore. "But I can assure you that I'm definitely taking it as one." Naturally, Asami's jacket froze where it rested on her forearms, only just a little past the elbows.

"Oh?" she mouthed, intrigued.

"_Oh."_

(Asami smiled deviously.)

"Coffee?" she asked her roommate, already moving toward the kitchen.

_Wait. _

_Not tea_?

"Yes, please," Korra replied with enthusiasm despite the minor surprise, already following suit. She planted herself in one of the creakier wooden chairs and plopped her elbows straight down onto the table, watching Asami work her magic with restless fascination.

Her back was turned as she counted the scoops, but Korra could hear the smile in Asami's voice when she said, "I get the feeling a lot has happened while I've been away."

(For a moment—_maybe out of instinct, or intuition, or just plain paranoia_—Korra's eyes flickered toward the refrigerator, just to Asami's right.)

"Um. Well," Korra swallowed, trying to ignore sudden queasy feeling quietly swirling through her gut.

"What are you waiting for! I've been dying to hear about this since that one night you two went out to that bar, which was _forever _ago. So spill! How is he?"

"Ah. Right. But first... I guess. You see, there's this napkin I should probably tell you about first."


	41. Tahno didn't remember

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.**  
Word Count: **850**  
Author's Notes: **_5/15/12. _(I can't fucking wait for the chapter after this!)

**Gifted To: **_anonymous_

* * *

**That one night**

_Tahno didn't remember._

* * *

He was dying.

"You're not _dying_, you drama queen."

"Though I wouldn't be surprised, given his circumstances."

"_I'm _surprised we didn't kill him ourselves. Get up and wake up to your hangover like a real adult, you pretentious graduate shit!"

His head was a black hole, cracked right down the middle. His mouth felt hot and dry and tasted awful, and his limbs wouldn't move and, worst of all, his hair was a clumpy, sweaty mess.

"What did you _do _to me?" Tahno croaked.

While Shaozu was sputtering madly, Tahno vaguely registered that Ming was rolling his eyes. "If anything, we saved your life."

He narrowed his own; partly against the suspicious figures hovering over him, and partly to cancel out the light. "I thought you said I wasn't dying," he coughed.

"Physically, no. Socially?" Ming paused. "It was a close call."

"You nearly took out half your kitchen trying to get the phone from me so you could call your damn intern!" Shaozu pouted, still obviously sour from the whole ordeal.

(Tahno laid very, very still.)

"Um. _What_?"

"You don't fucking remember?" Shaozu spat, aghast.

Tahno closed his eyes, trying to allow his brain to cave in on itself, just so he wouldn't have to listen to idiots this early in the morning. (No luck.) "I remember the tub," he said slowly, laying a heavy palm over his burning eyes. "And yelling a lot. And something about shorts."

"And wanting to fuck the living daylights out of your intern."

"Ah." Tahno swallowed, feeling the sides of his dry throat scratch all the way down. _Right..._ "And then there's that, I guess."

Ming heaved a dreadfully heavy sigh, then lowered himself down to the couch so that he could speak in a softer voice. (Tahno always knew he was the favorite.) "I think we should start making it a point to take your phone before you start drinking from now on."

"And _hiding _it."

(Another sigh.) "Shaozu wasn't exaggerating about the kitchen. You fell asleep around midnight, but woke up again sometime around three. You nearly had him decapitated because you thought your phone was in the hood of his sweatshirt."

Tahno blinked.

_Yep. Nope. Definitely don't remember that._

"Good to know," he slowly replied. Shaozu huffed off to the side.

"You almost managed it, you know—to call her and confess your undying attraction to her."

Suddenly, Tahno felt sick all over again. He wasn't sure if he really wanted to hear the answer, but: "I didn't say anything too compromising... did I?"

"Not to her, no," Ming vaguely replied.

"... _meaning_?"

"There was a lot of talk of midriff-baring t-shirts," Shaozu readily supplied. "And inappropriate lab wear, and something about really inconvenient tank tops. Really, it was all very boring until you went off on a rampage over some red sweatpants or something."

"Sweatshirt," Tahno managed through his gritted teeth, clenching his eyes even more tightly shut. "It's a red... _hoodie._"

"Whatever, man. I want to know how the hell you're gonna handle this from now on."

_Seriously, if he doesn't take at least forty steps back— _"Back the fuck off," Tahno ground out, twisting his face into the couch cushion. "I'm not handling anything until someone gets me my fucking coffee."

Shaozu's nostrils flared but, strangely enough, he and Ming turned to the side table next to the armrest under his head, and produced one extra jumbo mug of straight, black coffee. Tahno blinked.

"Oh," he said, and then—_Shit. They're not showing any mercy, are they? What the hell did I—?_

"We want to help you, Tahno," Ming said suddenly, taking a seat on the rug right alongside the couch. "But in order to do that, we need to know what's going on."

"Yeah," Shaozu added. "What your plan is?"

_Oh my god—fucking—shut up_.

Tahno rolled over to face the inside of the couch, which just made him feel nauseous all over again. "What the hell do you want from me? Nobody has a fucking plan at eight in the morning."

"It's noon."

_Oh_. _Fuck._

"Irrelevant," he spat.

"Seriously, Tahno," Shaozu tried again, and this time he at least sounded like he was making the _tiniest _bit of an attempt at showing proper respect. "You're obviously into this girl, and you're obviously out of your element."

Tahno's lip curled against the cushion. He was not out of his _element, _thank you very much.

"At least give us something to go on," Ming attempted, and even he was growing impatient. "Anything. You're into your intern, but she's seeing somebody else. You're seeing her roommate. You technically see her every day at the lab, so... What the hell are you gonna do now?"

* * *

But he didn't immediately answer.

Because in the privacy of his suffering, hungover mind—

Tahno was already beginning to form an idea. (A _plan_.)


	42. Korra studied (Part I)

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.**  
Word Count: **1,826**  
Author's Notes: **_5/16/12. _(I _still_ can't fucking wait for the chapter after this!)  
**Musical Inspiration: **"Stutter" by Maroon 5.

**Gifted To: **_EVERYONE. _

_THIS IS FOR ALL._

* * *

**That one night**

_Korra studied._

* * *

"Hey, are you sure Asami's not gonna mind that I'm back again so soon?"

"Nah. She knows that I've still got a good deal of leniency after the Valentine's Debacle... and besides, she's not even gonna be here tonight, anyway. She was only home barely long enough this morning for me to tell her about the contract-agreement, before Tight-Pants whisked her away for the rest of the day. Knowing them, they've probably skipped dinner altogether and are already onto _dessert _at his apartment... if you know what I mean."

"Ugh. I still don't know how you put up with all of his shit."

Korra paused her reading, glancing down from the stapled packet in her hands to the naked man currently pinned between her thighs. He pouted as she smirked.

"Growing a bit gallant, are we?" she teased, leaning down to peer into his eyes. Her bare knees sank into the soft sheets of her bed, one locked onto either side of his beautifully-carved torso, but she somehow managed to lean over without having to reach a hand out for balance, which pleased her greatly. "Am I sensing some primitive male-pride burgeoning in there? Under a layer of instinctive protectiveness, perhaps?"

Mako rolled his eyes, but it wasn't enough to convince her. She pushed his bare shoulder; he pushed back. "I just don't like that you have to spend so much time with someone who treats you like shit," he defended.

Korra shrugged, resuming her reading. (Honestly, naked studying was far superior to anything she'd ever accomplished in the campus library. She didn't know why she hadn't thought of it sooner.) "Really, it's not even that bad anymore. Now that it's getting easier to track his mood swings, he's actually become almost tolerable. Plus, our contract hasn't hurt either."

Mako chuckled beneath her, sending shockwaves of pleasant vibrations up her spine. (Right. Maybe _this _was why she hadn't tried naked studying before.) "Oh, man. Only _you _could have gotten that tool to listen to reason."

Korra paused. "What makes you say that?" she asked curiously.

"Well, as you can see from our group paper, which is.. _somewhere... _right over—here!" he snatched up another stack of stapled papers from the collection strewn across mattress around them. "Your... _persuasiveness_ has a special quality."

She rolled her eyes. "Effectiveness?" she dryly guessed.

"Don't sell yourself short," he warned with a mischievous smile. "I've experienced the effects firsthand."

"Mm," Korra hummed, setting her reading aside and smoothly shifting her weight forward, placing her palms on the pillow supporting his head, effectively trapping him even further. "So you have," she agreed. She started her slow descent down—

"Which is why I have you," he breathed, a mere fraction away from her lips. "Considering how useless I am with words."

_Then why are you still using them? _she thought to herself. "Not true," she countered, touching her lips to his. "I've seen your ideas—you could just use a little help in presenting them. You're a little indecisive, you know."

His hands—_ah, so warm, so_—found their way onto her back, and she fell to her forearms, feeling weak.

"Which is why I sell my body in exchange for proofreading," he murmured into her mouth, which fell victim to an inevitable bubble of laughter.

"If that were really the case, I'd be more than happy to make a career change," she hummed, kissing and kissing and kissing. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had such fun just... kissing. _Um. Never? _"I have been doing plenty of write-ups lately. Between all of my schoolwork and the lab reports—and the contract I just drafted up—you and I would never be out of business."

"Ugh, I don't want that scumbag having anything to do with me getting _business_. Even indirectly."

Korra paused again, risking a quick peek at his expression. He was looking up at her with a bit of a scowl, which she'd grown to find more adorable than intimidating. (She often shared this with him, but decided that something more important was currently at stake.) "Really?" she wondered aloud, trying not to think of the scarily accurate implications of his statement. "Even if he were somehow indirectly responsible for, say... you and I agreeing to this crazy arrangement in the first place?"

Mako snorted. "Don't even joke."

Her stomach squeezed uncomfortably below, but she wasn't quite ready to give up yet. "Think about it," she leaned closer into him, enjoying the _oomf _of air leaving his body as she rested her full weight onto his. (Again, naked studying: _the best_.) "Before Professor Tight-Pants scooped her up, you were all over Asami. You should be thanking him, really."

Korra laughed at his expression, this time even harder. Before a full-scale war could erupt, Korra hushed his complaints with another toe-curling kiss, and wrapped her hands around his neck, his shoulders, wordlessly _persuading _him to remember that he'd obviously ended up with the better end of the deal. When they finally broke apart, she was terribly thirsty.

"I'm gonna go get some water," she announced, placing another kiss to his jaw. As steadily as she could, Korra rose up from her position over him and stepped onto the floor. "Do you want anything?"

"More group projects?" he asked meaningfully, openly eyeing the sight before him.

(A pillow to the face was his answer.)

"Hey! _Hey_, wait—you're going out into the kitchen like that?" he asked, brow curling down with concern. "You don't have an inch of fabric on you."

_Oh, please, Mother Mako, _she thought with an inward roll of the eyes. _Afraid I'm going to catch a cold?_

"So?" Korra smirked. "No one else is home. It's my kitchen and I can go in naked if I want to."

Mako pursed his lips, fighting a smile. "Fair enough," he relented. Then, after an indulgent glance-over of the naked body in question, he reached over the side of the bed to the dress shirt lying on the floor and tossed it her way. "At least put this on, for me. As a favor!" he said quickly, when she stared him down. "Please," he said rather seriously. "I love it when you wear my shirts."

Korra gave him a look of mock-impatience, secretly enjoying the way _he_ enjoyed the way she looked in his clothes. For all her teasing about primitive instincts, it did make _her_ feel appreciated in some primal, pleasant way. "Fine," she huffed, not bothering to hide her smile. "But only because you said _please_. And because your shirt is so damn soft."

Mako's head fell upside down as he twisted his body and leaned farther back, dropping his head over the side of the mattress. His hair was sticking up in all sorts of directions, with wild tufts of soft, silky strands and—_oh my god, I want to touch_. Even from this angle, his lopsided smile looked good enough to kiss.

"I'll have to remember that in the future," he smoothly replied, watching carefully as she held the shirt out at her front.

For a heart-stopping moment, Korra was terrified that she might blush. Resisting the urge to rejoin him on the bed, Korra hastily shoved an arm through one of the red sleeves and said, "Honestly, though—kitchen nudity isn't all that uncommon in this apartment." She smirked as she hastily fixed a few of the buttons covering her front. "When it's just the two of us, Asami and I tend to ignore the convention of clothing altogether."

"That is _not _something you tell a guy and then try to walk away afterwards," Mako pouted.

Korra swerved to the side as he reached for her, laughing lightly as his fingers just only barely grazed the soft fabric of his shirt.

"I'll be right back," she smiled, before flitting away.

The sun was still setting, which was a wonderful sign for Korra. Later sunsets not only meant more sun_shine_, but also hinted at the steadily-approaching end of the school year, which subsequently meant a brief reprieve from the never-ending obligations of school and scholarships. Taking a brief detour to close the blinds in the living room, Korra thought of the summer classes she would inevitably be taking—_ugh_—but also the considerable compromises the summer semester would be making on behalf of her happiness. _Better seminar hours, better professors, and fewer scholarship check-ins! _She couldn't imagine a better solution. (Actually, she could, but these lies tended to be necessary for basic regular functioning and—) Korra caught herself thinking about all the free time she'd have, and all the time she'd have to spend in—

—_the lab. _

Korra's fingers lingered in between the shutter shades, resting heavily over the thin, flimsy strips of metal. It occurred to her then: the lab wouldn't be _his _anymore next year, would it? He was just finishing up. Tahno was graduating.

Her head shook fiercely, ridding herself of the thought. "Stupid," she hissed quietly under her breath. _What a wasteful time to be thinking about such stupid crap, _she complained, crossing her arms in thought. _And besides, it's not even until like, weeks away. _

_Don't think about it_, her mind urged her.

(And, for once, she listened.)

Instead, Korra glanced back to her bedroom door, where she knew a very hot, very naked Mako was waiting for her. Maybe she would get _two _glasses of water, she smirked to herself, feeling thirstier already; Korra had a feeling that he was going to be needing it by the time she was through with him. It was this exact thought that was running through her mind—_devious smirk, heated skin, dry mouth, warm belly, half-lidded eyes_—as she stepped around the corner into the kitchen and—

—came to find a shirtless Tahno, standing at her open fridge.

She blinked—not once, not _twice—_and still he remained, barefoot over the cold tiles, the bottoms of his blue jeans dusting over the floor—and _her water filter_, in his hand—which trailed all the way back to a pair of sleek, muscular arms, all the way back to a shocking expanse of smooth skin, to the rigid planes of muscle lining his stomach and chest. It looked too familiar—_too natural_—to see him there, half-naked in her apartment—

(And she tried not to—didn't _want_ to—remember the reason why.)

"_Ta—Tahno_?" she hissed, once she'd found her voice. When he looked up, shock quickly gave way to fury. "What are you—_what_ the hell are you…?"

"Ah," he smirked, slowly closing the refrigerator door with a soft thud, water pitcher still in hand. She could see the muscles shifting all throughout his torso, twisting and tensing and—

She looked up to one pair of two

very

knowing

eyes.

* * *

"Good evening, intern."


	43. they faced off (Part I)

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.**  
Word Count: **1,826**  
Author's Notes: **_6/2/12._ Opening dialogue courtesy of **idontliveinatent**, who drew an awesome sketch of this scene on tumblr! (Along with illustrations she's already drawn from practically every other _TON _chapter...) Links to _all_ of the fanart completed for my stories are now up on my FFNET profile! Also, an anon asked that I offer up a sketch of Korra and Asami's apartment, and I did! If you're curious, you can also find the link to the floor plan on my FFNET profile. (And by the way, I _still_ can't fucking wait for the chapter after this! It's gonna be a long one...)  
**Musical Inspiration: **"Stutter" by Maroon 5.

**Gifted To: **_anonymous_

* * *

**That one night**

_they faced off._

* * *

This was turning out very poorly, indeed.

When Tahno had shown up to his intern's apartment that evening, fully intending to make good on his promise to fulfill his contractual obligations—and thus fully intending to fuck the Romantic Roommate's brains out, until she'd been long cured of her familial distress and, more importantly, until _he _had achieved a full-blown recovery from the temporary insanity he'd drunkenly found himself in the night before—the last thing he'd expected to stumble upon was the source of insanity itself, standing less than two feet away from him in her kitchen archway, staring at him with wide eyes and a ponytail half-destroyed, and _mostly-_clad in the dress shirt of another man whose apartment she was supposed to be visiting, but for whatever reason _wasn't_ because she was _here _in front of him and _mother of __fucking god—_

* * *

(Okay.

So he'd never claimed that this plan was a _good _one.)

* * *

She seemed to come to her senses all at once.

"What the _hell _are you doing here!" she hissed.

Reflexively, Tahno glanced down to the fancy filter in his hand. As casually as possible, he replied, "Getting water." He arched a dark, thin brow for good measure, and then, simply because he had nothing better, added: "What are _you _doing here?"

She looked like she might pass out from pure anger—or punch him, at the very least. Instinctively, Tahno stayed rooted to the spot.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" she spat, lowering her voice with a shady glance back toward the living room. "I live here!"

His brows drew downward, and—to his growing alarm—embarrassed heat flooded his limbs. "Don't get pissed off at me," he snapped waspishly. "_You're _supposed to be at lover boy's right now."

Korra blinked rapidly, mouth forming silent words of fury as she pulled herself together. "_Excuse _me?" she hissed, flexing and clenching white-knuckled fingers through the air between them, as if she wasn't quite sure what to do with them. A little desperately, Tahno hoped that she wouldn't decide to punch, but—_then again..._

"_You _were supposed to bring Asami back to your apartment!" she accused, promptly jarring him back to the present, at which point he realized that the universe hated him. Of this, he was certain, because whatever it was that she had been doing in that godforsaken room before she came upon him in the kitchen had very clearly distracted her from fastening a few of the buttons up top and—_god help him, but_—it was not, by any means, an easy task to maintain eye contact with a half-dressed intern he wasn't supposed to want when there was, in the peripherals of his vision, the soft curve of one breast _just barely visible_beneath the too-large collar, hinting at its existence, reminding him of its proximity, practically _begging _to be—"Khhgmm," he coughed, with as much dignity as he could, which admittedly wasn't very much. After a brief moment of suspenseful uncertainty, Tahno managed to pull himself together.

"Says who?" he demanded carefully, voice low and harsh with quiet, indignant frustration. "You had the place to yourself last night—or have you forgotten already?" And then, more spitefully: "Not very memorable, is he?"

"This isn't a matter of fairness, pretty boy," she managed through gritted teeth, ignoring his petty jab. Her accusatory finger was just a little too close, hovering somewhere just below his chin. If he were to just—_reach down _and— "Asami assured me that you would be entertaining her _there_, in your apartment. You have to leave."

"What?" he hissed, incredulousness lending a mocking twist to his breathy scoff. "No fucking way. We've got plans for the evening and I intend to see them through."

_No matter how long it takes_, he thought darkly, staunchly ignoring the smooth expanse of skin stretched over her collarbone.

"Tahno," she whispered, and in her eyes he thought he saw the slightest spark of panic. "You _can't _stay here."

He'd heard the words but, more importantly, he'd heard the desperation within them. Tahno considered his intern's face very carefully, marveling at the range of emotion he saw there: _anger_, of course, and _frustration _and _exasperation _and _impatience _and many of the other irritating things he was used to seeing splash across her features in his presence... but there was also a number of more interesting things to behold, such as _restlessness _and _anxiousness _and... _curiosity._

Another idea began developing in his mind, and as the possibilities unfurled, Tahno set the water filter down on the small strip of counter space with a careful hand and then turned back to his intern, whose spine was as stiff as a board. He languidly raised on arm to rest against the refrigerator door, leaning his weight into the stainless steel surface with practiced ease.

(Okay, so he had to admit that this tended to look a lot more provocative when the wall _wasn't _the door of a refrigerator—one which also hosted a certain heinous napkin-document—but he didn't exactly have a lot to work with at the moment.

Whatever.)

"I'm not leaving," he declared in low, deep tones. He looked her straight in the eyes, daring her to look away, but maybe-sort-of hoping that she wouldn't."If you want your privacy so bad, go to his apartment."

_But really, _he thought. _Don't._

Shell-shocked, Korra's mouth fell open wide, revealing the tip of a small, pink tongue. Inevitably, she did look away—to the fridge, to the water filter, to the floor—and breathed out a scoff of pure, utter disbelief. Her chest heaved with a forceful inhale, and Tahno's arm slipped just the slightest bit along the metal.

"Look—that's impossible," she ground out through a whisper, raising her burning eyes back up to his. "We _can't _go to his apartment. This is the only real option we have!"

Tahno scowled down at her, feeling his fingers tighten into a fist, and then release. He wasn't sure if this was good news or bad news just yet. "Still lives in a dorm, does he?"

Korra's eyes, which had begun to take on a very nervous sort of light, flashed dangerously with defensive anger. "_No._He does not, _asshole. _We just—we can't, all right?" she hissed, dropping her voice even lower. Speculatively, Tahno glanced about the small kitchen, blatantly pretending to be on the lookout for imaginary eavesdroppers. He stopped only when he felt the sharp sting of a smack across his shoulder. "His brother is there, okay?"

Tahno blinked. "So? Kick him out."

(_But really._

_Don't._)

"Tahno—I can't fucking do that!"

"Sure, you can. You ruin people's sense of peace all the time. I'm sure this won't be any different."

"Tahno, I _can't_."

There was something funny about her tone. He frowned at her curiously. "Well, why not?"

To his surprise, she blushed. "It doesn't matter why not," she snapped, still pink-cheeked. "The point is that I'm not going to get bullied out of my own apartment by the likes of _you._"

"Then it seems you've found yourself in a bit of a predicament," he glared, stepping away from the fridge to cross his arms. "Because I'm not going anywhere."

"Well, you're gonna have to figure _something _out," she warned, stepping closer. He stared down his long nose into her narrowed eyes, and it was as he was wondering how he was supposed to take her seriously with her messy ponytail falling into her eyes that he realized that _she was right in front of him_, just below his chin. Quite irrationally, it occurred to him that he wasn't wearing a shirt—that it was still lying somewhere on Asami's floor, who was probably due to wake up any minute now—and that she, conversely, wasn't wearing any pants and that they were both standing in her kitchen—_very close to any number of flat surfaces_—both with other lovers presumably waiting for them back in their respective rooms.

For the first time since the onset of their entire exchange, it really hit Tahno that _he_ was _here_, in the apartment—_Mako—_and was very likely waiting for her, right now, in this moment, wondering where this wild woman was and what was taking her so long to come back from whatever meaningless task it'd been that she'd come out to take care of in the first place. (Maybe he was asleep, like Asami was?) But that comparison wasn't helpful in the slightest, because it led to other comparisons that were even less appealing—such as the memory of what he and the Sato heiress had been doing _before _she dozed off, and the possibility—the unfortunate likelihood—that they, _she and Mako_, had done the same. (And for a moment, all Tahno could see was _red._)

Resolutely, he sharpened his glare.

_And this is my problem... how? _

"You know what?" Korra replied slowly, as it rapidly dawned on a startled Tahno that he had spoken the words aloud. "You want to go toe-to-toe with me, pretty boy? Fine. Listen carefully, then: you stay out of my way, and I'll stay out of yours."

The realization of his little slip had unfortunately taken a bit longer to process than usual, so by the time Korra looked up at him expectantly, glaring more ferociously than ever, Tahno was woefully very lost. Unwilling to back down and even less willing to admit to his distractedness, Tahno agreed—without very much thought to what he was agreeing to at all. It sounded good enough on the surface, anyway. "Fine. I can handle that."

"_Can_you?" she glared challengingly. "I mean it, Professor Tight-Pants. I don't want to see you again tonight. I don't want to hear you, sense you, or even remember that you're here." And then, as if to emphasize her every word, Korra actually stepped _closer_—which Tahno's short-circuiting mind thought was rather contradictory. "You're not the only ones with plans tonight, and I will not have you interrupt mine simply by being your usual sleazy self."

Tahno's mouth instinctively slid into a grimace, but he acted quickly, curling his lips into one of the self-satisfied grins he knew she hated. _Enough of this shit_, he thought, letting the smirk turn genuine. _This is the perfect opportunity; level the playing field a bit, take back some dignity after that stupid napkin incident, work up a greater reign over apartment visits, and still spend the night with Asami. _He ignored the nagging reminder of red.

_It's a win-win._

"Go for it," he encouraged, trying to keep his lips from twitching—_with laughter_. "Don't let me stop you from enjoying your evening."

For a moment, she didn't move—didn't speak, didn't blink, probably didn't even breathe. She looked up at him and he looked down at her and—_did she not hear me_? he wondered suddenly, watching her eyes. Because he really didn't want to have to repeat himself. _And it's not like I'm made of snappy comebacks, you know, _he thought, perhaps a bit petulantly._I rather liked that one, and it's not like they grow on—_

Her hand reached for him, and his mind went blank.

It was still blank when her small hand floated past him, sliding under the space of his shoulder—falling dangerously close to his waist—and came to rest over the forgotten water filter, which was still sitting on the cheap countertop, just behind his hip. He felt, rather than saw, as her fingers slowly closed themselves around the handle.

Silently, his intern drew the water closer into her chest, but he refused to follow the movement with his gaze. Her expression was uncharacteristically impassive, but there was a smirk—_self-satisfied and genuine_—all in her eyes.

(_His _eyes narrowed.)

She stepped back and turned, twisting ever-so-slightly in the direction from where she came, but just before she disappeared around the corner—before she left him completely—his intern glanced back at him over her shoulder.

"Don't worry," she assured him easily. "I've already forgotten you exist."

* * *

Eventually, Tahno heard the soft click of a bedroom door being closed shut.

He decided that Asami had been waiting long enough.


	44. they dealt with the consequences

**D****isclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.**  
Word Count: **2,844**  
Author's Notes: **_6/2/13__. _Surprise! I have decided to break a very long chapter into smaller parts. **Also: I have been waiting for this story arc for a long, _long_ time.**  
**Musical Inspiration: **"Oh my!" by Haley Reinhart. (Love this song. I've literally had it on repeat for every single one of these chapters.)

**Bonus! **  
(A.K.A. Filler Chapter.)

* * *

**That one night**

_they dealt with the consequences._

* * *

"Hey," Mako sat up. "There you are. I was about to come looking—_whoah_, you weren't kidding about being thirsty, were you?"

_What just happened? _Her mind wondered uselessly. It was the same question she'd been asking herself for the last fifteen seconds or so, at least, but she seemed no closer to finding the answer. Through an absurdly disoriented haze, Korra realized that she was back in her room, with the door shut, and an amused but boggled Mako lounging invitingly beneath the covers of her bed. Still a little stunned, Korra followed his quirky gaze to the water filter clenched in her grasp.

"Oh," she whispered. "Fuck."

"What, forgot a cup?" he smirked, settling further back into the pillows. "Or is that just another convention that you and Asami choose to ignore in the privacy of your own home? It does seem a little counterproductive though, that you go through so much trouble to purify the water just to drink straight from the container, doesn't it?"

Absently, Korra set the water filter down onto the nightstand next to the bed. Without much feeling at all, she dropped onto the mattress, collapsing back onto the pillows. Mako's face immediately fell.

"What just happened?" she repeated aloud.

"What?" he asked, leaning over her. "What is it?" Her gaze was blank, set pointedly on the ceiling above. He began to grow agitated. "_What_ just happened?"

"I... don't know," she responded weirdly, honestly, as confusion twisted her features.

"Well, are you _all right?_" he demanded.

Was she? It was hard to tell. _I feel... _Actually, Korra could feel Mako looking over her, no doubt inspecting her for any trace of physical injury—or possibly any visible sign of insanity. But what _else_ did she feel? What she felt was a tingly sensation spiking all over her skin, from her head down to her toes. She could feel her breath filling and expanding her chest, then the soft breeze of air as it was released from her lungs and flew over her skin. She could feel the sticky warmth of the room clinging to her hair, could feel the dryness of her lips. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest. _I feel..._ She felt like she was ready to run. Like she wanted to punch someone in the face, and feel the crack of her knuckles sliding across someone's cheek. She felt like she could climb a mountain or swim through the harbor and _keep going_. She felt alive. She felt ready to fight or fly or fuck, or maybe do all three. Especially fight. (And especially fuck. _Especially _fuck.) She felt great.

Wait.

No, she didn't. No. She felt very _aware_, that's what she felt. This weird, prickly sensation was just a result from her recent bursts of adrenaline—the lingering after effects of the earlier rush of afternoon sex and, just now, the lung-clenching and heart-pounding concentration needed for an _undesirable _confrontation. It had nothing to do with anything, and especially not anything to do with her supervisor—who she may or may not have still harbored some latent attraction to. (Her supervisor, who was here, shacking it up with her roommate.) Nope. This was simply the unfortunate case of a leftover head rush that must have been ignored for too long, and was now starting to affect the rest of her senses. That was all. And if she _did_ feel any sort of greatness, then it was because she'd just spent the whole afternoon with Mako, who was still here—very naked and very much in her bed—and because she'd just shown up her arrogant, selfish lab boss—_and without wearing any pants, even! _Okay, so she _did _feel pretty great, but not because of him. She felt victorious. She felt a renewed sense of vital energy, a fierce sense of control and power surging through her veins, a warmth spreading through her limbs, a hypersensitive awareness of physical space and time and skin and—fucking hell, there was a shirtless Tahno in her kitchen.

"There is a shirtless Tahno in my kitchen," she said.

"..."

"..."

"... _what_?"

* * *

"Mmm," Asami woke with a pleasant, groggy hum, turning to meet the face nuzzling her neck. "I fell asleep?"

"You did."

Asami's frown was undeniably adorable. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"I did," he smirked.

She shifted a little to the side, lifting the covers so as to invite him underneath, but he didn't bother. Instead, Tahno laid himself alongside her, over the blankets, and continued the intriguing task that had roused her from sleep. She let the blankets drop with another sleepy, satisfied moan. "How long was I out for?" she asked, languidly stretching her limbs as Tahno settled over her, holding her warmly in place with his heavy weight.

"Long enough."

She laughed beneath him, but the rising and falling of her chest was stunted by the pressure of his own. She tried to push him off, laughing harder, but Tahno was not so easily deterred, and soon her laughter gave way to breathy moans. Long nails dug into him, scraping against his skull, trailing down his back... Abruptly, she pulled away.

"You had time to put on jeans?" she asked curiously. Her tone wasn't necessarily accusatory, but the delicate brow that raised high said otherwise.

"Like I said," he replied huskily, already feeling the effects of his... wake-up call. "It was long enough." He leaned back in, but Asami tilted her head to the side, locking onto his gaze.

"Don't _you _ever rest?" she teased, but he could tell she was flummoxed.

"I hear most women appreciate this kind of stamina."

"Most women might appreciate men returning to bed _without _having put their pants back on."

"Fair enough," he acknowledged, easing into another smirk. He picked up right where he'd left off, but apparently Asami wasn't quite done. Tahno tried to be patient, but really, the last thing he wanted to do at this point was _talk_. He had a point to prove. (What, exactly, that was—he wasn't sure. But he had one.)

"So what else did you have time for whilst I slumbered?" she asked through a smile and—to Tahno's relief—another number of soft sighs, courtesy of his focus and determination.

"Well, I did happen to run into your roommate." As he'd expected, Asami froze; as he _hadn't_ expected, she reacted with horror.

"What?" she breathed, quickly sitting up. Tahno lifted his head and leaned back, allowing her room to move—and allowing _him_ a rather enviable view of smooth skin as the sheets shifted lower onto the swells of her breasts—but then one of her hands rose up to her temple, no doubt easing a violent head rush, and Tahno sat back, waiting.

"Apparently, there was some miscommunication about this evening's location assignments," he told her. His gaze wasn't accusatory, per se, but the drollness of his tone hinted otherwise.

"Korra's _here_?" she gasped, raking a slender hand through her long mane of hair.

_In the flesh_, his mind supplied, no longer able to keep his irritation in check. "And her little dog, too."

"But—how did she—oh, god," Asami dropped her head into her hands. "I have to go talk to her!" She moved to slide out from under the covers, but his hand stayed her.

"Wait," Tahno sighed, fighting his impatience. His skin was practically alive with electricity, and this was getting him nowhere. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"Tahno, do you have any idea how angry she probably is with me?"

Funny, but she seemed to be much angrier with _him_. He shook the thought from his mind, ignoring the tightness in his chest. "Something tells me that now is _not _the optimal time for an apology. She's already back in her room." _I will not have you interrupt mine simply by being your—_

"I can't just sit here! What did she say? Did you already apologize?"

"Not... in so many words."

"_Oh, god_. Tahno!" She wiped her hands down her face, but Tahno merely watched from his spot a little farther down the bed, one eyebrow perched shrewdly over the other. "This is a disaster."

"I think she'll survive," he replied dryly, eyeing the door resentfully.

"But will _I? _Goddammit, I knew I shouldn't have let you convince me to come back here! I'm surprised she hasn't already broken down the door to come after me yet! I didn't even put up a courtesy bra because I was so _sure_ that she was going to be over at—wait. That's it, isn't it?"

Tahno frowned. "What is?"

"Ahh, _and her little_—damn, Tahno, what is it that you have against Mako so terribly?"

"Um. Excuse me?"

"Ughh, this all makes sense now," Asami groaned, flopping back onto the pillows. The impact did wonderful things to her anatomy, but he couldn't fully appreciate the vision she made, not now. (Well. A little bit. He leaned closer, but resisted the urge to grab.)

"What does?"

"Mako's over again," Asami concluded aloud, releasing a tiny sigh of not-quite relief. "Hopefully things are already heating up enough between the two of them so that she can cool down a little before we talk."

_Heat up? Cool down? _"Sato, you're not making sense."

"Well, then listen more closely," she eyed him, taking hold of his shoulder and pulling him all the way back down to the bed. This time, he did join her under the covers, though the sternness in her eyes prevented him from venturing any further with his plans. Yet. "Korra's going to be pissed off that I didn't end up going to your place like I said we would—and admit it, she has a right to be—so all we need to do is wait a little while until Mako does his thing and—"

"Thing?" Tahno repeated snidely. "What thing?"

"—distracts Korra a bit from how angry she is, and then when she's relatively sedated and endorphin-filled tomorrow morning, I'll swoop in with another gushing apology and grovel and … and hope for the best."

"Which would be...?"

Asami sighed. "Look, this may be kind of hard to wrap your head around, but Korra is a scary creature when she's angry. Yeah, she'll yell and shout and fight when she's mad, but when she's well and _truly_ angry—when she feels like she's been betrayed in some way—she's impulsive. Unpredictable."

"She's always unpredictable."

"Yeah, but even more so," Asami said very seriously, watching him carefully. She laid her head upon the pillow, and—for lack of anything better to do—Tahno followed suit. He'd almost forgotten how green her eyes were. "She's a pretty reckless person by nature, but... she can make some _really_ rash decisions sometimes."

Tahno wondered if she was speaking from personal experience, but there were more important curiosities to be had, and Tahno's scowl only deepened when he warily asked, "So what does that mean for us?"

"We need to abide by that contract from now on, for real," Asami urged him, but it was so hard to focus on her words when she moved that sensuous mouth in such an enticing— "We need to actually get her permission in advance, as promised. Don't forget: _you_ were the one who created it."

"Ugh," Tahno covered his eyes. "Don't remind me."

"So I shouldn't have to be _reminding_ you to abide by it," she pointed out, pulling his hand away from his face. "I signed it, too. Just this morning. And just look how much of a poor showing we're making."

"Probably still better off than that engineer," he muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing," he sighed. "So now what? We pretend not to exist while carrying on with our evening, then do damage control in the morning?"

"Tahno, I don't think you understand," she said quietly, holding the blankets more tightly around her. "The damage control starts tonight."

"Right. So we actually attempt to be quiet for once and be reclusive and not go barging in on—on _whatever_, and that's that. Apology tomorrow morning, problem solved."

"No, Tahno," she told him. He didn't like the look in her eyes. "The damage is done. The apology starts now."

"I don't follow you. What are you—?"

"No more sex. For the rest of the night."

"..."

"..."

"... _what_?"

* * *

"I don't _fucking_—believe—that—_motherfucking—_!"

Korra sighed from her spot on the bed, absently playing with one of the buttons still holding together Mako's shirt. Lazily, she tilted her head to the side on the mattress, watching him pace about the room. He was wearing a very particular pair of gym shorts.

"Mako," she said evenly.

"I mean—how _dare_—if he thinks for even one second that—"

"Mako," she tried again, more sternly.

"I should—I should just—right now, I should go over and—"

"_Mako_," she snapped, reaching out to take hold of his wrist. He stopped, but his arm was still tense, as stiff as an iron rod. "I told you, I'm already over it."

His nostrils flared. _Well, _she thought. _Obviously, you're not_.

"I can't believe that guy!" he hissed, staring back at the door. His restless energy wasn't affecting _her_ too directly, but it seemed to be eating away at his common sense. "I mean, to think, if you'd—if you hadn't taken my—_naked_!" His eyes were wild with the possibilities.

"Yes," she nodded, standing tall to meet him—most of the way, anyway. He was tall, which she loved. She reached her arms up to his shoulders, twining them around his neck. "Naked."

"And you were—"

"Not naked," she shook her head, looking him very carefully in the eyes. One wrong move and she'd burst into uncontrollable laughter. Probably not what his ego needed, she thought.

"_Nearly _naked," he complained.

"And—oh, look," she reached down, pulling open the few meager buttons that had kept the shirt in place. "Naked again."

Mako's eyebrows looked dangerously close to merging, but she could see the slight wobble of his Adam's Apple as her only covering fell to the ground. _Bingo. _He was determined, but willpower had certainly never been Mako's strong point.

"Korra, how can you be okay with this?" he asked, protectively wrapping his warm fingers around her waist. "This asshole just keeps barging in all over your life whenever he feels like it—he bosses you around at work, he shows up at our bars, he invades your home—you just nearly flashed him right now, and yet—you're not the least bit unnerved by this?"

She wondered what he would do if he knew just how much flashing had really gone on between them. _Well, technically Bolin saw just as much as I did, but_—Ugh. This was so not what she needed to be thinking about right now. "Honestly?" she asked, pressing herself closer. "Not at all."

_Liar._

"I mean... maybe it _would _be better if we just went back to my place," he shrugged, biting his cheek. She could see the whirlwind of thoughts behind his stormy expression. After squashing her brief surge of panic, Korra reclaimed her senses.

"Mako," she began very seriously. "This is _my _apartment. I live here. I eat here, I sleep here, and I'd like to continue fucking here." He gulped. _Ah, _she smirked. _There's that wobbly Adam's Apple._

"But—"

"Listen to me," she ordered, touching her fingers to his lips. "In about two minutes, you are going to pick me up and throw me back down on that bed, and then we're going to finish that group project of ours." _And we won't be done until the proofreader says we're done, _she privately vowed. She resisted the urge to gloat when she felt him harden against her.

"So... what?" he asked, a new, involuntary hoarseness to his voice. Unconsciously, his thumbs began to draw small circles into her stomach. "We just... we just go for it and... pretend they don't exist? Like they're not even here?"

It was on the tip of her tongue: _Precisely_. But then a distant noise from beyond the door—and it could have come from anywhere, from anyone, really—made her pause. She licked her lips in thought, staring at the wall.

"No," she replied slowly, eyes darkening with intention. A soft noise came from him when she looked back up, deep from the back of his throat. When she kissed him, his mouth responded eagerly, pouring his hot breath into hers. His hands slid up and over her ribs, crushing her against him, and her fingers pulled unforgivingly at the hair at the base of his skull. He shuddered as she pulled his bottom lip between her teeth.

Almost unwillingly, Korra pulled away, just enough to see his face. He was fighting to catch his breath just as much as she, and the look in his eyes seared into her, all the way down to her core.

"They're here," she whispered, and licked her lips, lovingly. "And they can hear all they like."


	45. they faced off (Part II)

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.**  
Word Count: **3,100**  
Author's Notes: **_6/11/13__. _I have been waiting for these chapters for a very long time... and unfortunately, we're going to have to wait a little bit more. This was getting too long... so, naturally, I broke things down a bit more. AGAIN. Don't hate me. It will be worth it. ;) (I hope, haha.)  
**Musical Inspiration: **"Blurred Lines" by Robin Thicke. (It's been stuck in my head all day!)

**Gifted To:** _EtherealCrescent_  
Thank you for your review! :) And your prompt.

* * *

**That one night**

_they faced off. _(Part II)_  
_

* * *

Tahno bolted upright, nearly toppling Asami from where she laid over his shoulder.

"What was that?" he demanded, breaking the relative stillness of the room.

"Hmm?" came a soft moan. Blinking away the bleariness, Asami lifted her heavy head and glanced about the room. "What was what?" she asked hazily.

"Something just fell," he claimed, still very much on high alert. "Loudly."

With a a great yawn, Asami carefully pushed Tahno back down onto the bed and tucked herself back into the nookof his shoulder. "Must have been Korra," she answered dismissively, closing her eyes as she nestled further into his skin. "She tends not to remember much about the rest of her physical surroundings when Mako is over."

He frowned.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Asami's brows crinkled together. "I don't know," she sighed a tad impatiently, rubbing at her eyes. "They're crazy in there."

"Crazy how?"

"I don't know," she repeated, turning so that her voice came out muffled against his skin. He resisted the urge to roll her over so he could hear her more clearly. "Just... _themselves,_ you know? It's a wonder they don't tear themselves apart, considering the rest of the mess they usually make."

Tahno was full-blown scowling now and Asami was already half-awake. "Doesn't that annoy you?" he demanded, peering down at her.

Asami couldn't help it; she laughed. "Sorry," she apologized through a giggle, then glanced up. "You just look so... _bothered_ by it all. It's not something I'm worried about, I promise. Honestly, I just think it's funny. Half the time I think they're wrestling as much as they are love-making,"

"I do _not _appreciate that terminology," he muttered darkly.

Asami laughed at him... again. "Oh, come on. I know this is probably a little awkward for you since you work together, but I'm sure you'll get over it." Another distant crash sounded from beyond the walls, this time followed by the tiny sounds of hushed laughter. Tahno scowled as Asami smirked. "I mean—she must have," Asami noted with another breathy laugh. "If she's already comfortable enough to get it on while we're maybe only thirty feet away."

And in the far corners of Tahno's mind, he heard it again—_I've already forgotten you exist_.

"Ah, look. I'm sorry," Asami poked him, bringing him back from his steely thoughts. "I didn't mean to rub it in."

"Seems like she's already got that under control," he muttered, which earned him a stern look from the woman beside him.

"If I remember correctly, _we _already established that precedent."

"How long is that incident really going to stick?" he demanded suddenly, rising up on one forearm and digging his elbow into the soft mattress. "I mean, really. It's been _weeks. _It's _March_ and yet I still feel like I'm paying for it at every turn."

"I guess it depends on what you consider payment," she pointed out reasonably.

_Payment? _he snarled._ Try pay__back__._

"Well, that stupid contract, for starters," he snapped. "I still don't know what convinced me to agree to at least half of those conditions."

"Oh, god—that's _right_!" she laughed, ever-amused at his misfortune. "How many were there, again?"

After another severe frown, Tahno grumbled, "Sixty-four."

He let his head fall back with a large and dramatic sigh, cursing all things relating to interns and their large, hulking boyfriends. His eyes drifted absently across the room, taking in the details that he hadn't paid much attention to before, until they eventually came to rest on an unlikely object; there, in the center of Asami's vanity, was the single candle she'd lit, and for some reason Tahno couldn't seem to drag his sullen eyes away from it. He usually detested candles, finding them incredibly tacky and cliché—although his distaste could be temporarily forgotten, of course, were a fair maiden to exhibit more favorable... _tastes—_and yet for some reason, this one didn't seem so bad. It sort of smelled like rain.

Not that it helped.

"Oh?" Asami mouthed, and he could sense that she was looking up at him from the softness of her pillow. "That's an awful lot of trouble for something as simple as a few overnight stays, don't you think?"

Tahno quietly huffed, breaking away from the candle to glare at the wall. His jaw felt tight when it clicked back into place. "From what I've been able to gather over the last few months, it appears that your roommate and trouble are seldom far apart." _And things are rarely simple._

"Do you ever call her by her actual name?" she asked him curiously, reaching up to play with the long, wavy strands of his bangs. "Most of the time it sounds like you refer to her as a separate entity than an actual person... Though I do admit that she's a force to be reckoned with, all on her own."

Tahno's glare deepened. "Understatement," he deadpanned. "I think that napkin was more of a damn peace treaty than a business contract."

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"Not when I didn't realize we were starting a war in the first place."

"A _war_?" Asami asked, laughter bubbling out between breaths. "You're not serious."

"Ask _her._ She's been the one winning all the battles lately," he shook his head. He had to admit that the dramatic rolling of his eyes was a little theatrical, even for his tastes, but he was rewarded with another bout of giggles, which eased the pain some.

"You know," Asami slowly began, trailing her fingertips up along the side of his torso. "There _are_ rewards that come with battle."

"Yes," he agreed, staring down at her with expressive eyes."For the victors."

"Well," Asami breathed, taking the ridge of his Adam's Apple between her smile. Somehow, Tahno was strong enough not to swallow under the pressure of her mouth, but his eyes still slid closed. Her long, slender arms wove themselves around his neck and against his skin, she whispered, "I happen to know a useful maneuver or two."

In a sudden twist, Tahno ducked his head down to meet hers, breaking free of her hold and claiming the space below her jaw with his teeth. "Is that so?" he murmured challengingly into her long neck, smirking into the vibrations of her laughter.

"If you think you could handle them," she coaxed,and when he raised his head to look down at her, she was smiling. _I'm an idiot_, he thought, staring down at the beautiful woman lying beneath him. Her pale skin was warmed by the soft glow of the gently burning candle from across the room, and the shadows that danced and dipped along the creamy skin called to him in a way that, truth be told, he had never experienced before. Her dark, ebony hair spilled lovingly across the pillowcase, shining silkily in the candlelight.

"General Asami Sato?" he murmured into her skin. "You are a woman of many talents, indeed."

Strange, but—just for a second—he thought that he'd felt her stiffen under his touch. There was a single tick of observation, and then the moment passed and she was back to wrapping herself more tightly around him. "I'd be happy to share them," she promised, placing a long, burning kiss onto his parted lips. "And who knows? At least with my unique perspective, perhaps you won't mind losing so much, after all."

"You don't anticipate a victory? Even with your precious tactical expertise?"

"Tahno, I may be a very capable woman... but there's still only so much I can do against such a worthy adversary," she smirked, thrusting her hips upwards into his. A grunt escaped him as he fell forward, catching his fall with the lines of his forearms. He looked up at her through the fringe of his bangs, and smiled, dark and greedy and feral. Asami's eyes darkened with hunger as he hovered over her, and her pouting lips parted, wanting.

"On second thought," he amended huskily, relishing the shivers caused by his breath ghosting along the shell of her ear.

(This time, it was his turn to laugh.)

"I may have already won."

* * *

Despite his words, Tahno _knew_ that the war was far from over.

And as his intern may or may not have realized...

He _excelled_ in playing dirty.

* * *

"Well, it's a good thing we're strategizing and not having sex, because I specifically recall that being prohibited for the evening by a certain—"

Asami didn't bother to let him finish.

* * *

Korra and Mako flopped back onto the bed, exhausted.

It was a few minutes before either of them spoke, and surprisingly, Mako was the first.

"Wow," he breathed.

_Oh, god, _Korra internally groaned. _Well, it's not like I ever picked him for his way with words.__Never been any misunderstanding about __that__, _she thought with a quick quirk of her eyebrows, laughing rather generally at the funny ways of the universe. Yet when it became _her_ turn to speak, Korra was at a genuine loss.

"Wow," she echoed, feeling her chest rise and fall with long, shuddering breaths.

Mako shifted on the bed, turning to face her, and Korra twisted her head to meet his gaze. Small beads of sweat were bordering his hairline, and a healthy flush was spread far and wide over his golden-tanned skin. His lips, Korra noticed, were rather swollen. She smirked.

"That was... really satisfying," she half-laughed, half sighed, letting her head sink deeper into the mattress. Somewhere along the way, they'd lost the pillows. And the blankets. (And half the fitted sheet, but Korra didn't really mind.)

"What?" Mako prompted with a knowing smile. His fingers toyed with the long strands of her hair and _this_, Korra thought, was something a girl could get used to. "The sex? Or having sex loud enough for your asshole supervisor to hear?"

"Mmm," she murmured sleepily. "_Both._"

A long, peaceful pause.

And then, Mako turned to her, and asked:

"Wanna go again?"

* * *

(Really, he needn't have asked.)

* * *

"Goddammit," Asami hissed, voice hoarse with panting breaths. "We shouldn't have done that."

"Which part of _that _are you referring to?" Tahno smirked, easing further back into the bed with a satisfied huff. Even _he_ was slightly out of breath. "You're going to have to be more specific."

"_Dammit, Tahno,_" she sighed restlessly, distressed. Quickly, she sat up and rounded on him. He blinked up at her, shocked at how rapidly her attitude had changed. "We are refraining," she told him. "From sex. For the rest of the night." Then, almost desperately, "We have to."

His jaw went slack with disbelief. It was a moment or two before he could speak. "_They're _not refraining!" he hissed, just as another noise sounded from across the living room. But this time, it wasn't the crash of furniture or the thud of something falling hard to the floor.

It was the unmistakable sound of his intern.

Asami had heard it, too—her fingers immediately moved to cover her eyes, so she missed when his face contorted with rage.

"They're not refraining _at all_!" he spat, seething.

"Oh, my god," Asami whispered, still covering her face with her hands. "Our neighbors are never going to forgive us. We're going to be known as _those _girls who live down the hall."

"What do you care what your neighbors think?" he demanded with a frown, feeling the tell-tale signs of one _monstrous_ oncoming headache. His hand flew as he spoke, but occasionally settled against his pounding skull.

"I don't care what they _think_, Tahno! I care about common courtesy! We _try _to have a little class, you know."

"_You _have class. Your roommate, on the other hand—"

"Shut up, Tahno," she snapped, slapping him hard in the chest. His stare examined the lingering imprint made on his skin, then returned pointedly to the woman who had placed it there.

"You know, if you are trying to convince me _not _to bed you again tonight, this probably isn't the best way to go about it."

"Tahno," she said. "I mean it." He bit his cheek, put out, but he ultimately acquiesced; Tahno had learned to recognize a warning when he heard one, after all. Very recently, in fact. Even perhaps within the last year or so. Or, more specifically, a matter of five months, two days and—

He inhaled deeply, and exhaled, long and slow.

"Whatever," he waved off her concerns. "There are plenty of inconsiderate people in your building. Especially the college kids above you, who are always making a racket."

"I know... But Skoochy really doesn't _mean _to be so wild, and he's actually very polite and accommodating when we—"

"You know what? Fuck your neighbors."

"Tahno."

"Actually, better thought: fuck _me_."

"_Tahno."_

"It sounds a lot better when you scream it."

A pillow connected with his face.

When it fell away, Asami was staring at the door with a thoughtful look. He was about to ask her something, but another cry of distant pleasure seeped through the cracks under the door. Tahno's fists clenched at the pillow in his lap.

"You know," Asami said slowly, trailing off into silence. Tahno shifted, regarding her very carefully. Her hair fell in waves around her shoulders and down her back, but for once Tahno's attention was focused solely on her eyes.

"What?" he asked, tense.

"Call me crazy, but... If I didn't know any better," Asami paused to look at him, and the sight of her made his mouth run dry. "I'd think that they were _trying _to be heard."

A pause—and then Tahno's whole body jerked into action. "You see?" he quietly snarled, pointing an antagonizing finger toward the door. "I told you! This is nothing but a game!" _And she's winning! _he thought desperately. "And they're _winning!_"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Asami scoffed, crossing her arms. "That they're facing off against us in some kind of—some kind of sex battle?"

"_Yes_."

"Tahno, Korra and Mako aren't the kind of people who would—"

"Aren't they?" he challenged, eyeing her expectantly. Asami pursed her lips.

"Well," she mused aloud with a thoughtful frown. "They _are_ very competitive. Both of them."

"Yes," he agreed, stiffly.

"And they _are _very physical creatures."

He frowned. "Yes," he said, even more so.

"And we _did _essentially invite them to flaunt their togetherness when we showed up here unannounced."

"Debatable."

He quieted under her stern gaze.

Asami released an exasperated sigh and pulled her fingers through her hair. "So, what? We've just unwittingly found ourselves as players in an unexpected sex duel? This is ridiculous," she huffed, then reached for her shirt. He was about to stop her, and had even raised a hand to reach out for her shoulder—when Tahno's heart spiked with realization that the shirt she was putting on was _his_.

For reasons that he couldn't entirely explain, Tahno didn't interrupt her.

Gently clearing his throat, Tahno pasted a casual mask over his features, and shrugged. "So, just out of curiosity... how exactly do you plan to approach your roommate about your suspicions?" She sent him a piercing stare. "No, no," he said noncommittally, raising a pair of placating hands. "I'm just simply wondering how one might broach the subject. Do you start with a nice _hello, nice to see so much of you, Mako _or do you plunge right in and say _I know you two are having sex to spite us._"

Her eyes tightened. "That's—that's not what—"

"What is this really gonna do, Asami?" he asked her very seriously, gently tugging her wrist back toward the bed. With a slight frown, Asami let herself be led. "Is this going to ease your guilt? Will it make any difference?" He spotted a shift in her gaze, the tiniest spark of doubt, and he zeroed right in. "Or will talking about it all now just make things worse?"

Asami sighed. "Maybe you're right. I doubt there's much at this point that could make things _better_, at least."

He took her chin between his fingers and gently tilted her down to meet him. "That's the spirit."

"But Tahno, I _still _don't feel comfortable making a production out of this."

He faltered, just for a moment, then caught sight of her—long and slender limbs, full and soft curves, all enhanced by the dark fabric of his shirt—and he smirked. "I can change that," he promised.

"Tahno," she warned, though if he heard her right—and he _did,_ he knew he did—there was a slight quiver in her tone. "I am not contributing to this madness. Korra's already gonna be angry with me enough as it is. I am _not_, I repeat, _not _going to do anything to further along this stupid contest."

For a moment, all Tahno did was nod his head, silent and thoughtful. Above him, Asami worried her lip, obviously conflicted. And then, very slowly, he rose to meet her, standing tall with the backs of his thighs edged against the mattress. She watched him very carefully, torn, as he carefully brought his hands to cup her face, and gently held her. And for another long moment, that was all he did. He held her.

And when he leaned down and kissed her, she sighed into his mouth, and he knew that _this_ battle was over.

He pulled his lips away, just slightly, and smirkingly whispered against her lips, "Then allow me."


	46. someone said the wrong name during sex

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.  
**Word Count: **3,050**  
Author's Notes: **_6/14/13__. _I have been waiting for this particular chapter for a long... _long_ time.  
**Musical Inspiration: **"Fuck U Betta" by Neon Hitch and "Oh my!" by Haley Reinhart.

**Gifted To: **_oroioro_

* * *

**That one night**

_someone said the wrong name during sex._

* * *

"Holy—_fuck_," she coughed out, as Mako collapsed down onto her chest. It wasn't the impact she felt—oh, no; she could barely sense his weight—but rather the entire world spinning around her. She grasped at the sheets below her to steady herself, at the skin of Mako's back, his hair, everything, but still, her world spun.

His breath was hot and heavy against her ear, and his swallow was hard and dry, rasping with haggard breaths in the space near her throat. She was sore, sticky with sweat and sex and _still full with Mako, _and she couldn't stop making this _sound _to save her fucking life, and Tahno was in the other room doing who knew what with her roommate and, best of all—

She didn't give a damn.

"Motherfucker," he rasped, panting out what must have been the rest of his energy. He looked just as sated and sleepy and high as she felt. Suddenly, she laughed.

"_Mako_fucker," she corrected. Irrationally, they both broke out into a fit of hysterical giggles.

Which was cut short, not more than two moments later, by an unexpected noise.

Korra and Mako paused, sobering quickly. In times of confusion, it wasn't unusual for Korra to tease him about his inquisitive brow—because to ignore such a prominent feature would be a dishonor to his face—but now wasn't one of those times. As if sensing this, Mako's eyebrows actually furrowed _deeper._ (As if such a thing were possible, Korra noted.)

"Did you hear something?" he asked quietly, suddenly on high alert. He probably didn't realize it, but his hold on her instinctively tightened. Torn between feeling protected and annoyed, Korra tried to ignore him entirely and instead focused on channeling all of her energy into listening to what she'd also just heard beyond her bedroom door.

It didn't take long for realization to hit.

"Is—is that—?"

"_Asami_," Korra hissed. "Are you fucking _kidding _me?" Her fist pounded into the mattress. Mako instinctively jerked to the side, out of the crossfire. "They're totally getting it on over there!"

"Um," Mako hesitated, sending a dirty glance back toward the door. "Isn't that what they came here to do?"

She glared. "_Not _helping," she muttered. "And who knows how long they've been here for! They could have been here for hours for all we know! There's no telling what kind of stuff they've already been up to—and now they're at it _again_!"

"Maybe Asami doesn't realize that we can hear?" Mako suggested, treading lightly.

_Deep breaths, Korra... Think... _"No," Korra said slowly, as the pieces began clicking into place. "No, Asami would know. This isn't the first time she and I have had a roommate discussion about wall thickness, you know." She was contemplative, like she was already preparing a plan, but Mako didn't seem to know where to start.

"So... what does that mean for us?"

"It _means _that she knows we can hear her just fine," Korra announced impatiently, decisively, feeling her lips thin into a grimline.

"So," Mako scoffed. She continued to glare at the ceiling, and he looked at her, flummoxed**. **"They're _purposefully_ showing off?" He scoffed again, with an angry, disgusted twist.

"_He_," she corrected, though truthfully, she couldn't be sure. "There's a reason why Asami and I have been roommates for so long—we're both very compatible, and we _both _try our best to respect the other's wishes." And then, more darkly: "My bet is that _he _is the bad influence."

Mako's nostrils instantly flared. But an idea must have occurred to him immediately thereafter, for he paused, brows thick with consideration, and asked, "So... do you think they could hear us, too? Like you thought?"

There was a long pause. "Yes," Korra tightly confirmed, feeling the tiniest bubble of resentmentbegin to take form in her gut.

"Then it's retaliation!" Mako accused.

Korra frowned. She scoffed.

She paused.

"No," she dismissed, suddenly feeling queasy. "Nah, It's probably just—"

"No, no, wait—listen," Mako insisted, growing more and more irritated with each passing moment. "Let me get this straight. Your creepy boss—"

"Supervisor."

"—gave your roommate the impression that they were going to _his _place, then wound up here without so much as a heads up, and _instead_ of being a respectable bunch of adults and leaving to go do their shit elsewhere—like the place they originally _said _they'd be at—they are now here, in your apartment, not only overhearing _us_, but also shoving _their _business in _our _faces?" His eyebrows were practically into his hairline. "_C'mon_."

For just a moment, her jumbling thoughts got so twisted up—they actually went blank.

_What the—!_

"Motherfuckers," Korra whispered, almost awed.

"Korra," Mako said urgently, shifting closer down, peering at her blank stare toward the ceiling. With a start, Korra realized she'd forgotten that they were still connected. "You get what this is, don't you?"

But she was only barely listening. A cold sensation had taken hold of her chest, icy and sharp and slow-crawling beneath her ribs, and gripped it tight within its grasp. She found that it was hard to think about much of anything. That it was suddenly hard to swallow.

"This is practically a challenge," Mako was prattling on, growing more and more offended with each passing realization. "That asshole boss is tormenting you, just like usual! He probably talked Asami into it, just so he could..." Slowly, Mako trailed off. "Hey," he said gently. When she didn't offer up much of a response, he tried again. "Korra?"

Reluctantly, Korra tilted her head in his direction, though she still couldn't bring herself to look at him. "Yeah?" she whispered.

He opened his mouth to say something, then gently closed it, cleared his throat, and started again. "You wanna get out of here?" he asked her quietly.

Surprised, Korra carefully turned her gaze fully toward his. "What?" she asked.

His expression had softened and his voice was low. "You don't have to put up with this, you know," he told her. "We could just go back to my apartment and hang out. Maybe even chill with Bolin, grab some late dinner... You know?"

Inexplicably, Korra was touched by his offer. She had to admit that it _did _sound appealing; spending a drama-free night in the company of friends, relaxing over the weekend with a beer and some video games... and maybe even sneaking into Mako's room to sleep after Bolin had turned in for the night. _And it would certainly send a message to Asami_, she thought, a tad disappointed in her roommate. _It's not often that I'm the one setting the example for model behavior_. Asami and Tahno could have the apartment all to themselves, just like they so desperately wanted, and then _she'd_ be free from their not-so-covert displays of affection. _For now, at least_. Given her options, it sounded too good to resist. She desperately wanted to say yes.

But then her own words came back to haunt her. _I'm not going to get bullied out of my own apartment by the likes of __you__, _she remembered.

Determination stiffened her shoulders. When she looked at Mako again—so concerned, so willing to drop his thirst for revenge to meet _her _needs—she smiled gratefully, and shook her head in a firm, final _no_.

"Are you sure?" he checked, almost looking a little disappointed himself.

"Yes... I'm sure. But it _does_ sound nice," she admitted with a playful smirk, then deviously pinched his cheek. His scowl gave the gesture a look that was pure comedic relief to Korra's mangled insides, but there was still a spark in his eyes, and the hungry look he gave her kept her from laughing outright. Impulsively, she kissed him.

"So, now what?" he asked breathlessly, once they'd broken away. "I doubt there's going to be any sleep anytime soon, what with _that _racket going on."

But sleep was the furthest thing from Korra's mind.

* * *

After all... Asami had always been—and would _continue_ to be—the role model.

* * *

"Um. What?" Mako blinked, just a few minutes later.

"C'mon, we have to do _some_thing!" Korra begged**, **eyes fierce, expression set. "We can't just let them win!"

Mako looked horrified at the idea. "I _know_ that!" he snapped. "I just don't understand... _how—_" A very pointed look below. "—you think that's going to be possible."

Impatience blinded her for a moment, but soon she was forced to recognize his point. "Dammit," she cursed.

"Well—I mean," Mako said hastily, noticing the frustration and disappointment on her face. "As flattered as I am by your faith in me... I just don't think that's humanly possible at this point."

"_Ugh. _Tell me about it," Korra groaned. She was pouting at the ceiling again, so she couldn't see any visible traces of Mako's rising panic. However, she quickly followed with: "I don't even think I _have _any more orgasms in me. There's something called a limit, Mako—and I've hit it. Hey!" She swatted him, forcing a frown she didn't actually feel. "Try not to look so relieved about it, all right?" He laughed at her and, for some stupid reason, Korra started to feel just the tiniest bit better. "So, now what?" she demanded, trying not to show just how relieved _she _suddenly felt. _Stupid Mako and his stupid face. _

Mako bit his lip... and soon Korra was biting her own.

"I have an idea," he said.

* * *

Precisely four minutes, twenty-two seconds, and thirty-nine feet (and five-and-a-half inches) away, Tahno stilled.

"Is that... is that the shower running?"

* * *

Mako's head hit the tile with a satisfying crack.

She was on him in moments, scraping her fingers along slick flesh and through thick, tangled hair. _Hair that __I __tangled,_ she thought possessively, twisting her fingers even deeper into his scalp. The water was hot, but his mouth was hotter, and it was everywhere—her neck, her face, her breasts, her jaw—_everywhere_, all at once.

"Admit it," he breathed into her ear. "This idea was one of my finest."

When Mako's fingers dug harder into her waist, she jerked against him, encouraging him to grip her more tightly, to grab more boldly, and when he growled into her mouth and slammed her into the wall, she actually felt weak in the knees. He pinned her to the cold tiles, keeping her upright while her strength fought its way back into her limbs, and kissed burning trails down her shoulder, soothing the scalded flesh with more fire, more heat.

"It wasn't bad," she replied, breathing hard, sucking in water through short, shallow gasps. She smirked through the barrage of water streaming down into her face, trying to lighten things up again. She _was_ tired, but she was getting too caught up, letting things get too heavy, and—in doing so—forgetting their foolproof plan; as long as it _sounded_ good, it _was _good.

"But?" he prompted, smirking back. His hair was dripping into his face and, despite everything—their compromising positions, the heat swelling impossibly in her belly, the cool touch of reality pressing against her back in the form of her apartment's bathroom tiles—she couldn't deny that he looked unbearably cute. She smiled a quirky smile back.

"It's probably not going to do us much good in the end," she said, a tad ambiguously. He raised an inquisitive brow. "I mean, even if this group project has turned out to be much _harder_ than I thought it would be—"

"All right, all right," he nodded quickly, playfully nipping at her ear in reproach. Korra didn't hold back the long peal of laughter that burst from her lungs, and even coiled her arms around his neck for good measure. In one fluid motion, she'd been lifted off her feet entirely, and was suspended against the wall by nothing other than Mako's hips, hi—_well-defined!_—abs, and his strong arms. A slow smile spread across Mako's lips as Korra ducked her head down into the crook of his neck. "For what it's worth, I think we've earned plenty enough credit for participation. That counts for something, right?" When no answer was forthcoming, Mako pressed her more tightly against the wall, casually allowing one finger to simply _slip._ "Right?" he demanded, as she cried out with laughter. _"__Right?"_

"_Yes! Yes!" _she managed through breathy gasps, slapping away his nimble fingers. "Fine! Right!" she acquiesced, in a far more hushed voice, trying to keep the game. "A+ for Mako, yes, indeed," she whispered, clutching onto his neck.

"Not an F for Fuck?"

"Oh my god, Mako," she continued to laugh, nearing tears. _This isn't even that funny! _But to Korra, it _was_; her ribs were practically screaming for him to stop, just so she could take a normal breath again. "Please!" she begged, trying to calm herself. Her fingers were still latched onto his, just in case. "This analogy has gone on long enough. Now it's just getting cheesy."

He kissed her lips, on and on and on, even when her kisses fell to even greater bubbles of laughter and ended up not being much of kisses at all. "Are you sure?" he asked, kissing her cheek, her nose, her eyebrow. "Are you _positive_?"

_No_. _Yes. _"Maybe," she relented, kissing back. She sprinkled his whole face with pecks. "Unless you have any other suggestions?"

She felt her feet fall firmly onto the floor of the tub, and clutched onto the hands that steadied her as he slowly lowered himself down to his knees. He looked up at her, meaningfully, and smirked.

"How do you feel about extra credit?"

Needless to say, Korra soon found herself very much a fan.

* * *

"_Fuck_," Mako hissed sometime later, eyeing the bedroom door resentfully. "He's _still _going?"

* * *

Release came hard and staggering, leaving a swaying Tahno clutching the headboard between his numbing fingers.

When he finally opened his eyes, panting hard, his eyes fell to the woman writhing beneath him; her fingers were tangled in her hair, even as her head tossed about the pillow, as her body tensed and twisted, as she rode out the final waves of ecstasy. His body was heavy, uncomfortably weighing down the tension in his arms as they gripped tight to the wood. His shoulders were stiff and rigid whereas his spine had curved, caving into exhaustion, as his mind was flooded with chemicals and fog.

At length, Tahno reached his head down to the elegant neck bared below and pressed a kiss, deep and firm, to the underside of her jaw. A small sound escaped her then, and as his lips drew a path along the smooth expanse of skin over her exposed skin, the noises didn't stop. He inhaled deeply, breathing her in, clenching his knuckles tighter over the wooden frame of the board. He wouldn't let go.

When his nose edged down into the hollow of her clavicle, she moaned soft and low, filling his hazy brain with, _"__Tahno_."

Only half-realizing it, he smirked. _It's not a scream_, he thought. _But it'll do. _

Her legs were still wrapped around him, and her fingers drifted loose and listless out of her hair. His mouth traveled lower, to the point just above her sternum, where he paused, where he felt the soft scratch of fabric brush against his nose. She was still wearing his shirt.

A great long breath pushed past his lips, leaving his body with a force that nearly made him lose his grip on the headboard. Slowly, unsteadily, he flexed his fingers into the wall, easing some relief into the tiny joints and carefully pulling them away. He didn't lower himself down to her immediately, instead preferring to admire the view from above, and slid them into the spaces at her sides, where he could have the range of motion needed to roam her body freely.

For some reason, however, as Tahno slowly descended from his high, he found himself more and more drawn to the presence of his shirt. It'd been an impulse, really, to leave it on, and the effect it'd had on him had been... considerable. Inexplicably, so. Tahno dragged his fingers down the soft sheets and trailed them up and over her hips, then silently slipped them underneath the dark fabric. Dusting his fingertips along the hard ridges of her hipbones, over the delicate curves of her ribs, Tahno buried his face in the material covering her stomach, vaguely wondering at his actions. To be sure, it wasn't the first time a woman had dressed herself in his shirt, but never had Tahno been affected so... fully. A slightly more alert part of his brain recalled that he'd never much cared for whether or not a woman had taken over his dirty laundry, and couldn't see any good reason as to why all of a sudden it should be any different _now_. Slowly, Tahno rose up just a fraction, taking in the sight of her; the soft curve of a breast beneath the open collar, the small slips of skin dotted beneath the line of a few unmade buttons, black fabric falling upon a small waist... He _liked _seeing her wearing his shirt; yes, that much was certain. It filled him with some indescribable emotion, one that in all of his years of exploits, he had never encountered. There was a sense of pride there that was unfamiliar to him, one that spoke of deeply rooted instincts and primal urges and a sense of victory that felt sweet—

—and incomplete.

(Because for all the black he saw before his eyes, all his mind could see was red.)

His teeth ground together. His fingers tightened over flesh, thumbs digging into the jut of bone at her hips. An exhale flew past his teeth in a huff that left him lightheaded, and his throat dry with desert sand. Now, no matter which way he looked, no matter the angle, the black beneath his fingers bled into red, and the skin hidden beneath darkened and tanned, shifting from a creamy pale to a rich brown. Back and forth the colors blended, shifting in his mind until they all but merged together. His breathing grew heavier and his eyes grew darker as his desire redoubled—_exhaustion be damned_—as he drank in the sight of harsh black fabric stretched across the shadows of warm brown—

"_Korra_."

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

He froze.

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.

.

.

.

.


	47. they faced off (Part III)

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.**  
Word Count: **832**  
Author's Notes: **_6/14/13__. _I am particularly interested in hearing your reaction to this one... Please review!  
**Musical Inspiration: **"Don't Know Nothing" by Maroon 5.

**Gifted To: **_EtherealCrescent  
_

* * *

**That one night**

_they faced off. _(Part III)

* * *

.

.

.

.

.

.

"_What_?"

.

.

.

.

.

.

He couldn't decide what was more frightening: the dangerous slant to Asami's furious brow or the fact that, just for a moment—

Tahno had actually believed that the intern's name had come from _him_.

* * *

"Goddammit," Asami whispered, sucking in a sharp breath. "That was them heading back to the room. Didn't you hear the door?"

Tahno blinked, quite honestly not very able to hear much of anything; her words washed over him like an icy wave. "What?" he repeated.

"I think Mako and Korra caught the end of our little act," she sighed, hissing as one might while pouring alcohol over an open cut. "Dammit. Can this get any worse?"

Slowly, Tahno pulled his fingers out from under the dark material, away from her hips, feeling the fabric scratch against his skin. When he sat back, Asami scrambled upwards, kicking back to sit against the headboard as she mulled over their fates. Tahno was silent.

"_Shit_. Well, at least now we know that this could go one of two ways. It's either gonna be something we're all going to laugh about in the morning... or Korra may never quite forgive me."

He looked down at his hands, trying to force some sort of life back into his stone limbs, but all he seemed capable of was blinking, over and over. Like he was trying to clear away something caught in his eye. In his mind.

"I really should go talk to her."

"Don't," he quietly commanded, biting his cheek. His head was shaking slightly, though the act wasn't a conscious one. "Just give it time."

Tahno nearly started when he felt a soft hand rest itself upon his arm. Feeling dazed, he turned his head to look at her. "Hey," she said quietly, eyes soft. "Are you... all right?" she asked. It was so unusual to see the worry lines between her eyes, and yet, here he was tonight—seeing them over and over again.

It took a moment, but eventually he was able to muster a lopsided smirk. "Yeah," he huffed breezily, throwing in a small shrug for good measure—though admittedly, that might have been a bit much. "Just finally starting to think that maybe your plan to cool things off for the night might be a good idea, after all."

Asami looked genuinely disappointed. "I'm sorry," she sighed, carefully crawling into his lap. Almost absently, his arms wrapped around her; the fabric felt itchy against his skin. A single brow dipped low in confusion.

"For what?" he asked, genuinely perplexed.

"For... sort of bringing up my roommate during sex," she admitted sheepishly, with a soft breath somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. "It kind of killed the mood."

Tahno frowned, deep in thought.

Truly, she had no idea.

* * *

Sometime later, when the apartment had grown still, Tahno decided that sleep was impossible.

He looked down at his jeans and black beater in the shadows of the kitchen's nightlight, looked toward the empty couch across the living room, felt the sick churning in his gut with a growing sense of familiarity, and thought he might be sensing a pattern.

* * *

Tahno splashed the cool water onto his face over and over again, until he was practically blind with tap water. His fingers swiped at his face blindly, removing most but leaving some, until his hairline was seeped and saturated with beads of moisture. He should have been boiling in this obnoxious temperature, but chills still lined his body. He lingered there, hunched over the kitchen sink and dripping—with his hands covering his nose, eyes, and mouth—and tried to convince himself to pull himself away. His elbows were resting over the sharp edge of the counter and his spine was aching, but there he stayed, wondering where he went wrong.

(His record for poor decision-making didn't _start_ with blearily accepting the dish towel that was offered to him not more than a minute later, but... perhaps it didn't make it any better, either.

"Evening_, boss.")_

Belatedly, Tahno snapped upright, dropping the dish rag to the floor. It was shock that kept him rooted; it was instinct that sent him rearing _back_.

He got an eyeful of red.

"_You_!" Korra snarled fiercely, stalking forward.

His stomach somersaulted. His lips sneered. "Don't you '_you!_' me!" he snapped, slicing a hand through the air. "If anyone here has a right to be—"

"_Shhh!_" she hissed, glancing back toward the living room and, conceivably, two particular bedroom doors. "Not so loud! Do you _want_ them to hear you?" she demanded.

His face contorted with rage and shock. "Oh, so _now _you care whether or not someone—"

But before he'd had a chance to answer, Korra had grabbed his wrist, towed him forward, and yanked him into the darkness of the walk-in food pantry.


	48. they faced off (Part IV)

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.**  
Word Count: **2,363**  
Author's Notes: **_6/28/13__. _These last few weeks have been rough. Working out through the end of the school year while starting up at a new summer camp, catching the stomach flu... I can't wait to have a normal schedule again!

**Gifted To: **_EtherealCrescent_

* * *

**That one night**

_they faced off. _(Part IV)

* * *

Something sharp and stiff connected with his hip, sending him stumbling over with a hiss of pain. A flailing elbow caught a small metal can that had been set too close to the edge of a shelf, sending it plummeting to the ground with a joltingthud, right before his shoulder connected with the metal wire rack behind him—jarring the entire contents of three shelves into a jittery, noisy dance.

"Will you stop that?" she spat, gripping his arm tightly, presumably to keep it from unleashing more chaos on her canned goods.

"You're the one who dragged me into a fucking cabinet!"

"Just—stand _still_ for chrissake!"

"Easy for you to say—you're the size of a fucking hamster! Oh! Goddammit, you better not have mice or—_ow!" _Tahno hissed, shielding his eyes from the sudden flash of light."Watch where you point that thing!"

Expression abnormally tight, Korra lifted her cellphone—flashlight app fully activated—and laid it over an empty spot on one of the wooden shelves, spilling soft light onto the ceiling and all the space surrounding them. In a weird, slightly delusional part of his brain, Tahno wondered if she might suddenly lean over the meager light and proceed to tell him a ghost story.

But the other part of his brain was very quickly registering that his intern's—_and his lover's_—unimpressive galley kitchen was equipped with an equally unimpressive pantry, which meant that there was naught but mere inches between them. Height lent him somewhat of an advantage, but that hardly mattered in a room barely the size of a closet. The last place he wanted to look was _down, _because that's where _she_ was, but she had a funny way of trying to call his attention.

"_Asshole!_" she whispered fiercely, ramming her fist into his shoulder. Jaw dropping, mouth twisting—Tahno's back collided against the sharp corner of another shelf. For a moment Tahno could barely move; fumbling over the grips of the less-than-sturdy shelves, he stared up at her in disbelieving rage, feeling the splintering wood scraping his spine as he breathed. She stared him down, defiant, blue eyes narrowed. Mouth taut, shoulders lined with tension. Skin slick with a sheen of sweat. Dark, tousled hair.

_Fuck this!_

As Tahno hastily pushed himself back up to his full height, one of his hands immediately moved to soothe the aching bone at his shoulder. The other clenched at his side. _She'd better not have broken the skin! _his mind spat, viciously focusing his gaze on a small can of peas.

"What are _you _so bothered by?" he demanded, voice turning gritty with ire. The fall had pounded a wave of adrenaline through his veins, far too much for so little space. "You brought this on yourself!"

Korra's face fell slack with disbelief. "You did _not _just try to tell me that this is _my _fault!"

His eyes snapped to hers. "It sure as hell isn't mine!" he spat back.

"You're the one who set all this up!" she hissed, stabbing a finger toward his chest. He looked down, dazedly recognized the feeling of warmth pressed into his skin, and roughly swatted it away.

"Set _what _up?"

"This—this stupid competition!" she sputtered, hair falling free from her ponytail—or what was left of it. Her hair was such a mess, he couldn't be sure where one strand ended and another began. _Stop fucking thinking about her hair! _

"_What _the hell are you—?"

"Or whatever this game is!"

Shock and realization stabbed through him, red hot and dizzying. He'd _known_ that she'd known, of course, but... _To have it confirmed from her very mouth! _Hot under his breath, Tahno hissed, "You _knew_ that we could hear you!"

She recoiled immediately. "Obviously," Korra scoffed, voice much more controlled. "We were here first. It's not my fault you just happened to be within hearing range. And don't you even dare start to complain because, as I can assure you, hearing is _not _quite the same as _seeing._"

"Would you stop that?" he snapped. "I am so sick of hearing about this stupid Valentine's Day Debacle! I already apologized and I signed your damn contract—what the hell else do you want from me?"

"I want you to actually adhere to it," she hissed, stepping forward. But Tahno wasn't going to back away; not this time.

"It's not my fault you didn't communicate more clearly with your roommate about your _guests_! Why are you getting mad at _me?_"

"_Because she was never like this before you!_" Korra whispered fiercely, hands moving wildly through the air, though he noticed that they no longer ventured anywhere near his chest. "She was always a—a mostly respectable roommate when it came to having guests over! _You _are the difference," she told him hotly, sending sparks flying in his chest. "This is _your _influence."

"That's still no reason to make a spectacle of yourself!" Tahno insisted, ignoring his own attempts at spectacle-making for the time being. "Though I suppose I should be counting my blessings at the lab, now that I know how loud you can _actually _be."

"Mako would be happy to test that theory, I'm sure. Right there at the office."

"Don't you even _think _about it!" he snarled, lips curling back with disgust.

"Well, why shouldn't we?" she quipped tightly, crossing her arms in turn. "Fair is only fair, right?"

"In _what_ universe would you _dare_—"

"God, of _course _I wouldn't try anything at the lab, you idiot!" she hissed, face twisting contemptuously. "Only _you _could feel comfortable enough to try anything in a room full of growing swamp bacteria. And to invade someone's personal sanctuary like that?" Tahno faltered, feeling himself wither under her resentful glare. "Trust me," she whispered harshly. "I wouldn't sink that low."

Tahno didn't realize how tight his jaw had clamped together until an awful noise alerted him to the grinding of his a sudden scoff, her rolled his eyes and settled her with a sour look, subtly shifting back. _I gotta get out of here_, he thought, crossing his arms defensively as his shoulder accidentally nudged against one of the metal wire racks behind him. _I'm—I'm not in my right mind. This could get ugly. _

But he was still confused. Quietly clearing his throat, Tahno tried: "Then why would you even—"

"Don't you see how ridiculous this is?" she asked, almost desperately. "I mean, look at this—you've already taken plenty advantage of this apartment as it is! _Despite _our contract agreement."

Tahno sputtered, "Our contract agreement _allows_—"

"And you're totally overlooking the fact that _you _played right along in this game! Mako and I were just minding our own business, attending to our evening as we saw fit—_you're_ the ones who decided it was time to face off!"

"No," Tahno insisted. "You and that barbarian initiated the challenge—we just fulfilled it!"

"_No_—this was all you from the very beginning! By showing up here in the first place!"

"You think I intentionally brought myself over to your apartment to listen to your sexual escapades with that bumbling oaf?"

"God, Tahno—how petty can you be? His name is _Mako_, for chrissake. Mako. His name is Mako. I am fucking _Mako_. Not the barbarian or the engineer or whatever else you call him—_Mako_."

Tahno's nails bit into his palms, leaving half-moon marks dented into his skin. "All right, then... _Mako_," he said, spitting the name like acid. _Enough of this! _"And as long as we're on the topic of your little lackey, why don't you just admit what's really going on here?"

"The topic of _what_?"

"Don't think I don't know just what you're trying to—"

"Was I not clear enough?" she growled lowly, cutting him off. "I think we _both _know what's going on here."

_Wait. _Tahno pulled back, regarding her with suspicion. Curiosity. Trepidation. (_Do we?_)

"I'm not talking about just tonight," he clarified in grave tones, suddenly very, very serious. "It's more than just that. I'm talking about why you're with Mako in the first place."

She looked up, surprised. "Wait. What?" As her eyes narrowed, she tightly inquired, "How do you think you could know something like that?"

"You think I don't see what you're trying to do here?"

Confusion crept along her brow. And something deeper... something primal and nearly impossible to hide. _Panic_, he thought, feeling his stomach lurch with anticipation. Carefully, she asked, "What exactly is it that you _think_ I'm trying to do?"

"Oh, I think you know."

"Well, maybe you should _tell _me. Just in case."

He hesitated.

"Just admit it," he said softly, watching the fear bloom behind her eyes. "Admit that you're jealous of Asami."

"I'm... I'm _what_?" she gaped, eyes widening.

"Jealous," Tahno answered, more loudly. "Of your roommate."

She looked genuinely perplexed. (Which Tahno might not have been... totally expecting.)

"_Why_?" she asked.

"What do you _mean_ why?" he demanded.

"I mean—what _for_?"

"What—_because of_—because of what's going on between us!" he stammered.

"Between who?" she tried to clarify, with far too much calm and curiosity than what he thought the situation warranted. "Between you and _I_?"

"_No_! Between Asami and I!"

"I'm jealous of Asami because of what's going on between you and Asami?"

"_Yes!_"

She paused. "What _is _going on between you and Asami?"

"That's not what—_that's not what we're talking about!_"

"Then what _are _we talking about?"

"We're talking about how your latent feelings of jealousy surrounding Asami have influenced you into starting up this stupid charade with _Mako_!"

"_That's _what we're talking about?"

"For fuck's sake—_yes!_"

"You don't _know_ what the fuck you are talking about!"

"I know exactly what I am talking about!" (_Don't I!?_)

"I thought we were talking about what's going on between _us_—you and I!"

"There _isn't _anything going on between you and I!" Tahno sputtered.

"Then why the hell are we still talking about this in a fucking pantry in the middle of the night?"

"Because you're the one who dragged us in here in the first place!"

"Not to listen to your stupid-ass conspiracy theories, I didn't!"

"Face it, intern—you only started hanging around with that Mako bozo because I got with your roommate! You are jealous of the lifestyle your roommate leads, so you picked up the first stray toy you could find!"

Something flashed in her eyes, too quick for him to understand. "Oh ho, _no._" Korra's jaw clicked dangerously. "News flash, Professor Tight-Pants—you are not the only one entitled to casual sex!" she hissed. "My life doesn't revolve around you or your little theories! I'm with Mako because I happen to _enjoy_ fucking Mako."

"So I've _heard,_" he snarled.

"Ugh!" she threw her hands up in the air, groaning aloud. The noise unsettled him. "You are impossible!"

"Not nearly as impossible as that halfwit! Who—need I remind you—was after Asami _first_!"

He regretted it immediately.

It wasn't a topic that either of them had ever broached before, but what was done was done; the two of them stood there, bathed in the mostly useless ball of light from her dying cell phone, stiff and confused and more dissatisfied than ever.

Slowly, Korra nodded. "So maybe he's not the brightest at reading signals?" she scoffed. "Whatever. Neither am I. Look, I know what initially drew him here; I don't need you to rub it in. But I can guarantee you that what brought him around _isn't _what's making him stay. And despite what you may think, I don't need all the shit that you and Asami go through, what with the dinners and the outings and the _dates—_even though you still claim that you're not _dating._ At least _we're_ upfront about what's going on between us."

Annoyance flickered behind Tahno's eyes. "I have been _perfectly _clear about my—"

"_You_ have," she muttered. And then, before he could find himself fit to reply: "If anything, I have the better deal."

Tahno took a moment to compose himself. "Now _that's _impossible."

She gave a small, careless shrug. "Agree to disagree."

"All right," he said slowly, voice silky with danger. "Enlighten me."

Quietly, she regarded him, obviously deliberating. Tahno tried not to shift under her steady gaze. "Fine," Korra whispered, straightening as she put her thoughts in order. "Above all else, Mako and I are friends."

"With benefits," he corrected dryly.

She shrugged, smiling mostly to herself. "Cost-effective."

"Sure. If by cost-effective, you mean _ripped off_."

"Well, he is pretty ripped."

"Overrated."

She smirked, apparently beginning to enjoy the game. In a somewhat teasing voice, she continued, "Not to mention he's gorgeous—"

"Agree to _dis_agree."

"And he makes me laugh."

Tahno paused.

An uncomfortable feeling spread through his chest, leaving a heavy tightness that pressed outward at his ribcage, making it feel as if it was expanding farther and farther, so tight and so wide that it might burst through his skin. His lungs took in air, but he still couldn't fill the empty space.

"That bad, is he?"

Korra frowned. She shook her head at him, and heaved a heavy sigh. The uncomfortable feeling persisted.

"You are such a tool, Tahno."

Releasing a frustrated groan, he tossed a hand out useless into the air. "All right, fine," he muttered grudgingly. "I'm sorry, all right?"

"Yeah," she scoffed, reaching for the handle on the door.

"Hey, seriously?" Tahno stopped her, pressing a hand into the juncture of the flimsy folding door. "Come on. You know how I feel about the guy." Somehow, that had sounded more like an actual apology in his head. "I mean it's not like I... I didn't really mean—"

When her hand reached up and slid his to the side, out of the way, it fell to the wall beyond the frame without his consent, useless.

"Goodnight, Tahno," she muttered, as she carefully pushed aside the door and slipped out without a backward glance.

* * *

Alone in the pantry, Tahno rested his head against one of the shelves and thought about how he'd ended up in this mess in the first place. It was sort of funny, he decided with a frown.

Because in retrospect, he should have known better.

If he were to have called her by anything, it certainly wouldn't have been her name.


	49. Tahno's plans went to shit

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.**  
Word Count: **1,339**  
Author's Notes: **_6/28/13. _These last few weeks have been rough. Working out through the end of the school year while starting up at a new summer camp, catching the stomach flu... I can't wait to have a normal schedule again!

**Gifted To: **_anonymous_

* * *

**That one night**

_Tahno's plans went to shit._

* * *

"Still can't sleep?"

Korra hesitated at first, unsure as to whether she should pretend not to have heard him and continue feigning sleep. Shakily, she shook her head.

Mako nestled closer, pulling her deeper into the sheets. "Anything you want to talk about?"

In spite of herself, Korra couldn't help but laugh. _How funny_, she decided, battling a frown. _That for a guy who couldn't say two words to me before, Mako always seems to want to talk nowadays. _

She promised him that there wasn't and—after a few creative reassurances—he was eventually lulled back to sleep. But another hour passed and still no reprieve had come for Korra, who laid restlessly awake and staring, blinking into the mocking face of the clock. Sometime long after Mako's breathing had gradually evened into a familiar, soothing rhythm, Korra slipped her legs out from underneath the covers.

Her bare feet padded along the hardwood floor, all the way to a dresser against the wall. Clothes were strewn about the floor, but she left them were they'd fallen, instead taking the time to carefully remove a dark navy t-shirt and a pair of black shorts from her old undergrad days out of the neatly folded stacks. Her hands rested on the knobs for an extra moment while she looked down at the tidy piles and smiled, soft and surrendering and simple. _Looks like Asami helped with the laundry again_, she shook her head, feeling a little of the stiffness in her body give way with exhaustion. The drawer closed with a gentle thud.

The apartment was strangely cool when Korra stepped out into the living room, which was no doubt a result of the open windows behind the couch. She strode past them, resolving to play dumb until the morning, and slowly dragged her feet through the lush carpet. She followed the stove light coming from the kitchen, which wrapped around the living room walls and fell upon the first traces of unyielding hardwood with soft hues of yellow. When Korra's toes met the kitchen floor, stained and splotchy with old age, her hand instinctively reached for the refrigerator handle and pulled, feeling the welcome breeze of artificial cold.

"Hey," said a voice from behind.

Korra's heavy head swiveled to the side, taking in the sight of Tahno collapsed at the table, still without his shirt. The water filter she'd been looking for was already there, along with two glasses from the drying rack by the sink.

Letting the door close softly behind her, Korra nodded to one of the glasses in front of him; this one was empty, the one resting between his fingers was not. "Asami's?" she guessed.

He shook his head, carefully pushing the empty glass across the table. "Asleep," he told her.

It was an offering, and perhaps an apology, but Korra still hesitated, biting the inside of her cheek. She hadn't really expected to find anyone else awake, and she wasn't exactly in any state to have a human conversation, but Tahno seemed unnaturally subdued... and this may as well have been as good a time as any to address what had been keeping her up for the last few hours. Slowly, she stepped forward and pulled out the chair, sliding into the seat with an exhausted sigh. She reached for the filter, but Tahno beat her to it. Korra watched him fill the empty glass with glazed eyes.

"Remind me to add 'stopping by the liquor store on your way home from work' to your to-do list on Monday," he drawled, setting the filter back onto the table with a slow, steady hand. "Your stock is tragically low."

While wondering if Tahno actually knew how to start a conversation without also prompting an argument, Korra had to admit that he was unfortunately very right. "How long have you been sitting here?" she asked instead.

"Too long," he sighed, leaning back in his chair. Korra took a giant gulp of her water, feeling the liquid soothe her throat and refresh her agitated mind. Somehow, the coolness of the water only made her feel sleepier.

They sat in silence for some minutes, sipping their water and listening to the faint sounds of the street trailing in from the screens at the open windows, and soon Korra was ready to finally head to sleep.

"Wait," he called, voice unusually rough. He cleared his throat, returning it to its silky quality. "Wait a minute."

Surprised, Korra slowly pivoted on her heels, placing one hand on the back of her chair. "Yes?"

When he didn't immediately reply, Korra eased herself back into her seat. Taking her glass in one hand, she reached the other across the table for the filter, which she used to pour herself another round. "I'm sorry," she said.

Tahno's face crinkled, the edges of his mouth pulling slightly downward. "Why are you apologizing?" he asked, and _does everything he say have to sound like an accusation?_

"Because we're both being ridiculous," she said very simply, taking a deep breath and another drink. "And I'm tired and probably not thinking very clearly."

Imperceptibly, the corners of his lips twitched. His face was impassive, but his eyes held a smirk. "Are all of your apologies this sincere?"

Korra, too, remembered. Releasing a grateful smile, she thought of that one night in the lab—when everything had been simple, when things had made sense—and echoed, "Dude, what do you want?" She raised her glass of water into the air above the kitchen table, poised for cheers. "A formal letter?"

He smiled then, which made Korra think that she was probably a little more delirious than she'd originally thought. But then again, he looked just as exhausted as she. He steadily rose his drink to meet hers, and their glassed met with a soft clink. "That would be acceptable."

But they didn't pull away to drink, not yet. Korra looked at Tahno very seriously and said, "I am sorry, you know."

His lips twitched. "You're not just saying that because I'm the one who pays you?"

She leveled him with a dry look. "Trust me, I would hardly call it pay. I'm here for the resume building, not for the dough. Unless it's real dough, of course."

Tahno's laughter sounded suspiciously like a snort, though Korra didn't have it in her to call him out on such an undignified manner. "Remind me to add 'refill snack jar' to the list as well," he scoffed, rising up to bring the water filter to the sink. Korra did a double-take, then looked very pointedly at his hips.

"What?" Tahno demanded suddenly, stopping short. He was just shy of the sink, which placed him only a foot away from where Korra sat at the table, and when Korra's eyes narrowed dangerously—when she actually leaned just the _slightest bit_ forward to peer at him more carefully—Tahno's right hip actually collided with the sharp edge of the counter top. His hiss of alarm went unnoticed.

"Those aren't my shorts," she said, rather accusingly.

Tahno scoffed, which sounded more like a laugh. His discomfort was obvious. "Well, I'd certainly hope not. Professor Tight-Shorts doesn't quite have the same ring to it, does it?"

But Korra didn't laugh back. "Those aren't my shorts," she repeated.

"Ah," Tahno frowned, but tried to brush off her strange behavior. "Right. I'm confused. Were you hoping that they would be?"

"You brought them," she pointed out, and Tahno's brain visibly _clicked!_ as Korra began piecing the puzzle together aloud. "You came prepared this time. You brought your own shorts."

"And toothbrush," he smirked, subtly but unapologetically.

"You planned this," she accused, voice thick with disbelief.

He laughed at this—rather hard, actually. He laughed and he laughed and he laughed.

But Korra didn't get what was so funny.


	50. they went back to the beginning

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.**  
Word Count: **30**  
Author's Notes: **_6/28/13. _

* * *

**That one night**

_they went back to the beginning._

* * *

"Oh. And another thing. You should remember to pick up napkins on your way to work, too."

Korra frowned.

"What for?"

Tahno smirked.

"I wasn't kidding about that formal apology."


	51. Korra examined life under a microscope

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.**  
Word Count: **796**  
Author's Notes: **_6/29/13. _The last few days have not been the best health-wise, so I'm glad to be feeling a bit better this morning. Now that we're entering the next story arc of _That One Night_, I want to hurry up and post all of the chapters that I've already written so that I can finish up this next storyline and move onto completing my other WIP fics like _Personal Record _and _storm clouds come rolling in. _The only problem is that as the plot gets thicker, the more help I require with keeping this story coherent and readable! I'm afraid that posting too many chapters too quickly will make it less likely for readers to post helpful feedback. :( I'm going to try to post at least one a day for as long as I can, but I could really, really use your help!

This bonus drabble is dedicated to **thestarstrukkdreamer**, a long-time reader and tumblr follower who's actually made a_ different _request... one that will be fulfilled shortly. ;)

**Gifted To: **_thestarstrukkdreamer_

* * *

**That one night**

_Korra examined life under a microscope._

* * *

The rest of the weekend passed without further incident, leaving Korra with no choice but to conclude that it'd merely been a serious lapse in judgment for all of them. Asami and Korra had exchanged knowing _talk to you soon _glances from across the living room early that following morning, wordlessly resolving to figure things out later, once they were finally alone as roommates. Tahno and Asami shipped out for his apartment not long after that, leaving Korra and Mako time to finally finish that group project that they'd been pretending to work on for too many days. For a few young adults supposed to be the best and the brightest at the university, she thought they were doing a rather bang-up job of proving to be no better than awkward, hormone-driven high school kids. She tried not to dwell on it too much.

Monday actually ended up being something of a relief. Somehow in the strange passage of time, the conference was now only a matter of two weeks away, which gave Tahno plenty of material to freak out over, and gave Korra plenty of tasks to keep her busy. Between reminding Tahno where he'd placed his safety goggles (on top of his head) or his reading glasses (lefthand lab-coat pocket) and examining microorganisms beneath a microscope (double, triple, quadruple-checking), Korra barely had any time at all to think about any of the unsettling things that had taken place at her apartment just a few days before.

Such as this preposterous idea that Korra might actually be jealous of her roommate, Asami.

Korra frowned, peering into a particularly nasty slide of swampy bacteria. She adjusted the knobs, but no matter what settings she tried, the image just wouldn't clear. As she tested and toyed, her mind inevitably drifted elsewhere. It was not a completely unreasonable conclusion to reach, Korra had to admit, but still, the fact that he had come to it—and even worse, the too-close-for-comfort reasons for why he had—was too discomfiting to ignore.

Over the years, Korra had learned rather painfully that it was better to confront her envy upfront, so she was no stranger to recognizing her insecurities while Asami was around. But Korra had also come to terms with their differences, and was also very familiar with her own strengths—and how these qualities made them compatible. Complementary. They helped balance each other out, and—_most of the time_—brought out the best in one another. They were roommates first and friends second, but through it all, they were together. Companions. Teammates.

Asami had lots of money; Korra was comfortable. Asami had a whole garage of cars, and Korra borrowed them. They both loved to flirt with boys, but the key difference was that Asami was _good_ at it. Korra had plenty of reasons to be jealous—some painful, some petty—but Asami had reasons of her own, too. And never—_never_—in all of Korra's gradually-worsening issues regarding her supervisor, had she stopped to consider herself jealous of... _this_.

Korra frowned more deeply as she rotated the slide. It wasn't like she really considered Asami a rival or anything. She was _Asami, _her other half—and half the time, her roommate didn't realize just how much of an effect she had on people. (She realized _some_, all right, but not even she was always aware of her full power.) When Asami had first set her sights on Tahno, Korra had been torn; just who, exactly, was she supposed to feel sorrier for? She'd ended up feeling sorry for herself, mostly, until Mako came along—which led her right back to square one. Korra _had _originally advanced on Mako because she'd been upset over seeing Tahno and Asami so intimately, but she hadn't considered herself jealous of _Asami _for getting with her supervisor, specifically. She was just lonely. (_Re: horny._) Right? It's not like she'd _wanted _the fuck-buddy roses or the dinner dates—_even though they aren't dating_—or anything, which begged the question: just what exactly _did _she want with her sleazy supervisor?

And though she didn't even fully realize it, deep in the farthest corners of her mind, Korra was beginning to wonder if things were actually more serious than they seemed.

"_Yarrghhh_!" called a voice from behind, startling Korra into nearly poking her eye. "Where the hell did that heterotrophic activity spreadsheet go? And why is my abstract all the way at the _back _of the document? And where the hell are my fucking goggles?"

With a heavy sigh, Korra rose up from her work station, removing her gloves and then her own goggles—bright with neon, fluorescent colors; _safe like an acid trip_, he often said—and headed over, ready to save the day. Again.

And deep within the farthest corners of her mind, Korra decided, _Maybe not_.


	52. Asami and Korra drank tea instead

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.**  
Word Count: **1,124**  
Author's Notes: **_6/29/13. _I have five more chapters lined up and ready to go! D: I don't know if I'm going to be patient enough to pace myself and post them one at a time.

**Gifted To: **_anonymous!_

* * *

**That one night **

_Asami and Korra drank tea instead._

* * *

"Argh," Korra groaned later that night at the kitchen table, clutching the cell phone in her hand like a vice grip. "I have no idea how to respond to this."

Asami glanced up over her newspaper, the empty plate from dinner still sitting in front of her. "A Mako text?" she guessed.

"No," Korra sighed, pouting at the screen. "A Bolin text."

Asami frowned. "You've never had any trouble responding to him before."

"Yeah, well, I've never received a text under the realization that he was interested in me before."

"Ah," Asami nodded in understanding, setting the newspaper aside. "I was wondering about that."

Korra paused. "Wondering about what?"

"Whether or not he was actually into you."

_(Oh, _Korra thought. _For the love of—_)

"You _knew_?"

"I had my assumptions," she shrugged. "I mean, you spend so much time together, and I can't help but notice the way he looks at you sometimes."

"And yet you didn't tell me?" Korra demanded, feeling incredibly exasperated.

"I'd thought you already addressed it all," Asami blinked.

Clearly, the world expected her to be a much better person than she really was. "Of course not! How could I have?" she groaned. "I didn't even know this was a thing! God," she muttered, dropping her forehead to the table. "If someone has any interest in me from now on, they better hire a publicist to help them because I'm absolutely incapable of deciphering these things for myself, apparently."

"Korra," Asami laughed. "Most people would consider this a _good _problem. It means you have options. You just have to talk to him—and preferably sooner rather than later."

"Options," Korra muttered. _Yeah. Okay_. "Well, it's definitely one problem I never would have expected to have myself."

Her roommate sighed. "I know how that feels, at least," she murmured, playing with the string of her tea bag. (Now that Korra was looking, she noticed that Asami didn't seem to be up for the real deal today, and had opted for the instant pre-packaged tea instead of brewing her loose leaf blend. _Strange_.) "I'm sort of at a loss, myself."

Korra's brows knitted together. "Over what?"

Asami glanced up to her roommate's face, as if trying to gauge her receptivity; Korra tried not to be defensive, or impatient, or too eager, or any of the other things that might make Asami clam up, but it was difficult. "I've been thinking a lot about this," Asami admitted. "To be honest, I've kind of realized that it's almost impossible to predict _anything _when it comes to Tahno."

Korra swallowed. "But... isn't that a good thing?"

"Oh, it's exciting, all right. Don't get me wrong," she dipped and re-dipped her bag. "But it'd also be nice to know what he was thinking for once. I can't ever seem to get a read on him, which—I'll admit—is a huge difference from what I'm used to, and is a huge plus when it comes to keeping me interested... but it's also super annoying," she sighed, running her slender fingers through her long hair. "He's just so busy all of the time, and he's practically living out of that lab. It just makes me wonder what would happen if—and not that it _would _happen, but _if—_if I _were _to develop feelings for him, and whether I'd even be able to pursue them. Realistically, I mean."

Korra was more than a little stunned.

"I mean, I know that I already said I would never be able to treat him like a real boyfriend," she glanced down into her tea, looking troubled. "And he's not exactly trophy-husband prize material," she scoffed a laugh. "Not like Iroh was, anyway."

Hope mingled with fear; Korra's gaze lifted and her hands reached farther across the table, just barely touching Asami's in a small plea for rationality. "Have you talked to him at all since that night at the restaurant?"

Asami bit her cheek, giving a slow shake of her head. "I met Tahno that same night," she sighed. "I got so hooked that I... I didn't even think to call him later."

_Damn_, Korra mentally spat. Her expression turned into a grimace, but she tried to keep it in check. "He didn't call you?"

"I forbade him to," Asami chuckled sadly. "And then he went abroad... it was only our first argument, too. I left that restaurant thinking that I'd give us some time to cool off, and fix things before he left, but... then things between Tahno and I heated up. And it's just kind of died away ever since."

She tried not to let herself hope. "Are you _okay _with it just having died away?"

Asami considered this. "No," she replied honestly. "I'm not okay with how we left things. But it's hard to imagine trying to go back and fix things now... I haven't the slightest ideas as to how he's been doing, it's been so long. And that's another thing," she sighed again, pushing her teacup across the table, away. (_It's not a metaphor_, Korra told herself. _It's not a metaphor. It's not a_—) "I've already been with Tahno for much longer than any of my other flings," Asami pointed out reasonably. "I've never found myself drawn to a guy _this _strongly before for this long. He's just so smart and sarcastic and funny and absolutely _killer _in bed and... and sometimes I wonder what it'd be like to get to know him in places other than just underneath the sheets, you know?" She huffed a breath of laughter. "Or wherever _else _we decide to do it, which is another thing."

Korra nodded, mute.

"Ah," Asami sighed; the regret was so thick in her tone, it was palpable. "I'm sorry, Korra. I know that this is the last thing you want to hear."

"It's... all right," Korra lied, managing a pitiful shrug. "I mean... I have to get used to it sometime. Don't I? And I mean, it's not like it used to be," she continued. "Now that we're actually sort of... friends."

Asami still looked torn. "Do you want to talk about how things are going with Mako?"

Korra hesitated. What was there to even say? "Not yet."

"All right," Asami said softly, nodding in understanding. "Just let me know whenever that changes."

Korra's gaze drifted to the porcelain teacup in the center of the table, cooling and forgotten.

"I will," she promised.


	53. Tahno thought too much

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.**  
Word Count: **437**  
Author's Notes: **_6/30/13. _The original prompt was "Tahno said too much," so hopefully I'll be able to fit that somewhere soon. ;) It's getting trickier and trickier to add in new prompts! The plot is definitely solidifying now that the foundation is set, so if you'd like to make any more requests, send them in now!

**Gifted To: **_ShoeNinja_

* * *

**That one night**

_Tahno thought too much. _

* * *

Oftentimes, Korra liked to joke that he was _swamped_, because she thought that was funny. He didn't often agree.

He couldn't speak for her, but Tahno knew with every fiber of his being that he was doing a very purposeful job of pretending that the previous weekend had never happened. Getting drunk in a bathtub, creating—and _failing_—a master plan, getting kidnapped in a pantry, losing his mind... looking back on it now, it all seemed like a really, _really_ bad dream. And he was determined to keep it there. Deep in the back of his mind like an old, ugly nightmare.

He simply didn't have time to try anything else.

So he'd arrived Monday morning with the proper caffe mocha in hand, nerves thoroughly frayed by a nosy barrista who was beginning to gather enough courage to attempt friendly small talk. Once arrived, Tahno had been fully prepared to take matters into his own hands, should anything seem amiss—what that could have been, he didn't know; a shift between them, maybe, or some other cause for concern—but he needn't have worried. While he _did _have to admit that there was an added sense of a familiarity that came with hearing someone else cry out in the throes of ecstasy—one that simply couldn't be erased, no matter how _hard _he tried—she didn't seem any more intent on making his life more miserable than usual.

It's like they'd gone back to the beginning, the way things were before. Only not.

Things seemed calmer at least. Understandably, she was much more vocal about some of the contractual obligations he'd yet to fulfill—negotiations were already in order for the use of his TV—but she seemed to be much more focused on her task list than on his snappy comebacks. _As she should be, _he told himself, glancing at the calendar spread over his desk, generously marked with red ink. For all intents and purposes, his intern was acting as if nothing had changed between them, which was fine. He was fine with that.

"Hey, Professor Tight-Pants," she called breezily from the computer desk across the room. "I'd like to have those spreadsheets updated sometime before I get as old as you, you know."

Tahno frowned. He _should _have been offended by her insolence, but he knew well enough by now. And besides... the insolence wasn't what bothered him.

"I'm not _that _old, thank you."

But Korra only laughed. "Well, you're certainly not getting any younger. Come on—cough up those spreadsheets."

He did, but he spent the whole rest of the day wondering why it'd been so hard.


	54. Korra and Mako discussed the inevitable

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.**  
Word Count: **1,584**  
Author's Notes: **_6/30/13._ I may post one or two more today! I am anxious to move on, so we will see. :)

**Gifted To: **_anonymous!_

* * *

**That one night **

_Korra and Mako discussed the inevitable._

* * *

"She hasn't given up, you know."

Mako looked up, startled. "Hm?" he groaned sleepily, rubbing at his eyes. One of the pages of his textbook was still stuck to his face. With a sigh, Korra reached across the library table and impatiently brushed it away.

"Mako," she whispered, shaking his shoulder. "_Mako_."

"What?" he snapped upward, blinking his eyes in quick succession. Korra glared across the table. "What?" he repeated, warily shuffling back under her critical eye.

He was _supposed _to be reviewing the latest chapter with her, and she could very well scold him for nodding off, but Korra had to admit that there were more pressing matters on her mind, too. "Asami still wants us to all go on a double date," she whispered.

Well, _that_ woke him up. "What?" he hissed, staring incredulously. "Last weekend didn't count?"

Helplessly, Korra smiled; in an attempt to avoid the librarian's wrath, her laughter subtly transformed into a cough. "No," she shook her head, lowering her voice even more. "Asami decided that since we're all _obviously_ going to be spending a lot of time around each other, it might help break some of the tension."

"_That's _her solution?"

"You have to admit... Under normal circumstances, it wouldn't be such a bad plan. It might actually be a reasonable one." _Asami and her damn maturity._

"What _are _normal circumstances?"

_That's a good question_, Korra scoffed. She wasn't even sure she knew anymore.

"Well, it's definitely not _ours_," she answered decisively. "I mean, who knows what would happen if the four of us all agreed to go out with one another?" _It wouldn't be pretty_, Korra grimaced, feeling her stomach turn over. As if he were thinking the same thing, Mako shuddered.

"So how are you gonna convince her that it's a bad idea?"

"I'm not," Korra replied simply, twirling her pen. "Asami has it in her mind that this is something she wants; she's not gonna give it up."

"So we _have_ to?"

"Oh, no," Korra shook her head, short and stiff. "I've been living with Asami for years. She's not going to give in, but that doesn't mean that we can't hold out."

Mako blinked. "I don't follow."

"As long as she _thinks _that we're agreeable, we're fine; we just remain uncontrollably busy for however long it takes for she and Tahno to fall apart, and she won't be able to corner us."

He mulled this over. "How long do you think that will take?"

"Honestly?" Korra sighed. She hadn't even considered it until this moment—not really, anyway. It'd simply slipped out. "I don't... actually know."

Mako's head cocked to the side and his eyes squinted thoughtfully at her over the stacks of books between them. "I see."

Korra peered at him, squinting back suspiciously. "What?" she demanded lowly. "Why are you looking at me funny?"

"Is he bothering you?" Mako asked, very seriously. "Your supervisor?"

_Oh, goddammit. _"Just as much as usual," Korra scoffed a laugh. "It's kind of how our working relationship works."

"Are _you _okay with this double date thing?" he asked suddenly, surprising her. "Because if you are, you shouldn't hold back on my account. I can't stand the guy, but I can handle dealing with him for a night. If that's what you need me to do."

"Oh," she mouthed, speechless. "I—no," she shook her head, feeling inexplicably touched. "Thank you—but no. I have no desire to watch the two of them snuggle up to one another more than I already have."

"Funny," Mako muttered spitefully. "Is that what they're calling it?"

Korra tried to face him with annoyance, but her expression crumpled halfway through her punch to his arm and gave way to a grateful smile. "Well," she sighed, undeniably feeling a bit more relieved. "That solves one of our problems at least."

Mako turned to her, eyeing her curiously. _There's that funny look again_, she thought with a frown. _What is up with him lately?_

"What other problems do we have?" he asked.

"What?" Korra blinked, feeling caught off guard by the intensity of his interest in her answer. "You mean besides this project?" He nodded. She frowned. _Nothing_, she thought immediately, then hesitated. "Are there any?" Korra hedged.

"I don't know. _Are_ there?"

_What the hell? _"I don't know," she snapped. "You're the one asked!"

"Only because you brought it up!"

"This is stupid," she sighed, feeling an oncoming headache. _I can't handle these run-around arguments with __both__ of them! _"We are _fine_." Korra blinked again, feeling cold distress harden and sink to the bottom of her gut. "We are, aren't we?"

"What?" Mako hissed, eyes widening. "Of course! I mean. We are if you say we are."

A beat passed, and then Korra's forehead fell flat to the open book set before her on the table, her breath coming out in one giant rush. _This is ridiculous_.

"Um. Korra?"

"You'd tell me if something changed, right?" came Korra's muffled voice, hidden beneath the table. "You'd tell me."

"Yeah," he heard him say. "Yeah, of course."

"Good," she sighed, and lifted her head from the textbook. One of the pages stuck to her forehead, and when Mako swatted it away, his smile was vengeful. She made a promise to herself to make him pay for it later.

* * *

"You know," Mako said sometime later that Wednesday night, when they were standing in the nearby campus parking lot, about to head to their respective cars. Dusk was arriving later and later with each passing day, but Korra was still grateful for the warm cup of cheap library coffee in her hands; the evening glow was turning out to be much more of a late-winter chill than a springtime breeze. _Tahno and his stupid work schedule_. _If he weren't busy in a meeting with Tarrlok, he could have brought me my damn caffe mocha. I just can't handle all this vending machine stuff anymore. What time is it? The meeting can't have lasted too long... Maybe he's free by now? I wonder if—_

"Hey," said a voice, cutting straight through her thoughts. "Did you hear me?"

"Hm?" Korra turned back to Mako, trying to cover her chagrin. _Oops_. "Sorry, what?"

Mako's brows furrowed together in dissatisfaction, and she wondered how long he'd been trying to get her attention. "I asked you a question."

"Oh. Sorry. I didn't hear."

He heaved a great sigh, glancing down to the pavement beneath their feet. Just as she was about to ask him to repeat himself— "I said I was wondering if you'd made any progress with that guy that you like."

That cold pit of distress that had plummeted into Korra's stomach an hour earlier made a sharp U-turn and quickly slid its way back up to her chest. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. A few long moments passed, then Korra cleared her throat.

"Ah," she nodded slowly, feeling more stupid than ever. "That. I thought you'd forgotten."

This didn't seem to help matters much; Mako's frown only deepened. "_You_ haven't forgotten. Why should I?" he pointed out reasonably, disappointment and disapproval in his eyes. _Ouch_, thought Korra. _I didn't mean to offend him._

"Guess not," she muttered.

Mako sighed, and some of the tension left his shoulders. A little. "So, I'm guessing things are still pretty rocky?"

"Yeah," she sighed, laughing self-depreciatingly. "You could say that."

"Are you sure it's not Bolin?"

"What? _No_," Korra insisted, feeling her tongue click against the roof of her mouth in annoyance.

"Okay, okay!" Mako grumbled quickly. "I was just _checking._"

She wanted to be angry with him, but her thoughts were simply too much of a blur. "Ugh," she groaned in defeat, turning a downtrodden gaze back to her classmate. "Though that's feeling pretty rocky, too," she admitted.

Mako's expression turned soft. "I could help, you know," he told her. "Maybe not with Bolin right away, but... this guy that you like. I might be able to help. If you'd tell me more about him."

Korra bit her lip, feeling her head drift back and forth. "Mako..."

His face closed off immediately. "Forget I said anything."

"Hey," she reached for him, hanging onto his coat sleeve. "Look, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I just—I'm not—"

"I know," he said softly, nodding into a tired sigh. "I get it. It's just hard. You know? I mean... you should see the way you look sometimes."

"What?" Korra asked, stricken. His jacket fell from her grasp. "Like what?"

Mako shrugged, laughing out another scoff, then looked back at her with a helpless smile on his face. "I don't know," he brushed if off, looking back out over the expanse of cars in the quiet parking lot. Korra watched him, watched his profile glow in the oranges of the sunset, feeling the coffee begin to cool between her chilled fingers.

"I don't know," he repeated.


	55. Korra made a horrible mistake

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.**  
Word Count: **1,324**  
Author's Notes: **7_/1/13._ Feel free to consider this a foreshadowing filler. ;) Though probably not in the way that you think...

* * *

**That one morning **

_Korra made a horrible mistake._

* * *

"Korra?"

"Hmm?" she murmured, feeling the vibrations rumble into her toast.

"Just in case I didn't say it enough before—I really am sorry about last weekend. I mean, I really thought that you'd be at Mako's, but I should have talked to you first."

"Uh... Asami, it's Thursday. We already—"

"I know!" she moaned, sweeping herself across the kitchen floor until she was draped along one of the chairs next to Korra's at the table. "But it must have been so uncomfortable. And I'm so sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me lately—I feel like all I've been doing is screwing up and apologizing."

Korra opened her mouth to say something serious, perhaps to reassure her like a young, mature adult would—but all that came out was a breath of incredulous laughter. _That is Tahno's influence, no doubt. _"Really, Asami. It's fine."

"But _is _it?"

"Ehh," Korra shrugged, feeling surprisingly amused. She chewed off another bite of her jellied toast and gave Asami a sly smile. "It was awkward, but Mako distracted me. For the most part. And things turned out pretty okay in the end."

Asami's smile softened. She slipped into the chair next to hers. "It seems like things are going pretty well between you and Mako," she noted cautiously.

The toast turned to mush in Korra's mouth. _This again? _Nodding absently, she muttered, "Yeah, you know? They're not half-bad."

Asami paused, then added: "It seems like you and Tahno are actually getting along better, too." Korra stiffened, then quickly reached for the jelly jar. "I mean, I had a feeling you would, given how much time you spend together. It makes sense. Though I suppose anyone from the outside would've assumed it to be impossible, hearing the way you two bicker."

She offered up another shrug, this one much stiffer than the last. "I guess. Though it's not all just _our_ doing—the agreement did end up establishing some boundaries, after all."

"_Ugh_—I'm really, really sorry!"

"Forget it," Korra mumbled through another half-chewed mouthful of toast, shoving Asami's shoulder aside. Stamping down her discomfort, she slathered more blueberry jam onto her next piece of breakfast and said, "Now I just gotta to start making him fulfill my conditions."

"Yes," Asami smirked, propping her chin in her hand. "I read over those again. You were very strategic."

"What can I say?" Korra smiled, dripping jelly from the corner of her mouth. "I've been working with him for long enough. I have a few tricks up my sleeve, too."

"Well," she sighed a smile, standing to fill the water kettle on the stove. "I'm glad that things are finally turning out. It all seemed so messy for a while there."

Korra merely nodded, staring at Asami's back as she gracefully lifted the lid to the kettle and gently opened the tap, filling the metal pot to the brim. Asami had danced as a child, and taken up martial arts later on; the grace of the movements had never quite left her, Korra decided, as she watched her roommate switch on the stove to prepare her tea.

She hesitated.

"Though I wish..." Korra began unsteadily. "I wish I could actually start to dig Mako again."

Asami's head swiveled around from the stove controls, pinning her roommate with a curious look. "Again? What do you mean?" Her head tilted to the side. "Don't you already?"

"I... don't think so," Korra sighed, setting down her toast. "I kind of lost interest for a while, and that was a while ago. And now it's just... well. It's so _frustrating!_ Last semester, I never really thought much about what he was _like_, aside from his looks," she admitted, feeling herself blush a little at her own shallowness. _I can't be blamed! He's beautiful, okay!_ "But now that I really know him as a friend—as a _close _friend... I can count on him, you know? For pretty much anything." _Well... almost anything_, she thought, thinking of their conversation from the evening before. Her blush deepened. "And he's not exactly the most perceptive guy, but... he's intuitive in his own way. He's there for me, even when I don't think I need him to be." Korra looked up at Asami, dissatisfied. "Do you know what I mean?"

Asami nodded, listening closely. "So what's wrong?" she asked.

"I like him," Korra admitted quietly, fiddling with her butter knife. "But it's not like I really _like _him. Not anymore."

Asami's eyes widened. "When did this happen? I mean... When did it stop?"

"Um... Somewhere in between the time I told you that I hate signaling and... the night we started hooking up?"

"Korra!" Asami gasped, aghast. "I had no idea!"

"Well," Korra squinted pointedly. "You have been rather... _busy._"

"Ha, ha," Asami droned, waving a spoon reprimandingly at Korra. "This, coming from the girl who's gotten enough in the last weekend alone to—"

"All right, all right. You've made your point."

Asami pursed her lips, but otherwise let the matter drop. She thought very carefully before asking her next question. "So were you into him when you actually started dating?"

"Does his body count? And we're not dating," Korra corrected quickly. "We've always been clear on the fact that we are _just _friends. Hooking up. Friends that are hooking up."

"So... friends with benefits?"

"Yes! And he's a _good_ friend. Now, anyway."

"Now that he's getting something in return?"

Korra frowned. _It's not like that_, she thought defensively. (_Is_ _it?_)

Distantly, the tea kettle called.

Korra was still frowning when Asami poured the hot, steaming water into their mugs. When Asami placed her cup in front of her, Korra was still organizing her thoughts. "It's hard to explain," she began, turning to the girl shuffling about the counter. "What you said—it is, and it isn't. I mean. It might have started that way with all the sex—and definitely no complaints _there—_but nowadays I feel like Mako rarely asks for anything_; _that boy has _serious _Mother-Hen tendencies, let me tell you. And sometimes it's hilarious and sometimes... I just appreciate it, you know? He's so serious, but I laugh _so much _around him. But I'm just... not into him. Not like I thought I was, anyway. Ah—wait!" Korra thrust out a palm, halting Asami from reaching for the instant tea bags. "Do you mind if I—if you brew some of the loose leaf tea instead?"

Asami looked perplexed, as if it hadn't even occurred to her. "Sure," she shrugged. "I don't see why not. I guess it's been a while since I pulled it out, hasn't it?"

"Ha," Korra laughed nervously, mindlessly reaching for more jam. "_Yeah_."

"Well, I'm not gonna lie... I _am _kind of disappointed," she admitted ruefully. "But I understand what you mean. You shouldn't feel guilty, Korra," she told her, startling her roommate with her uncanny insight, as always. "After all. You've been completely honest with him." Instead of responding, Korra mindlessly scraped her knife over the crumbs on her plate. She piled them into tiny mountains, then blew them away with a puff of her cheeks, in one giant swirl of sticky dust. Asami was looking at her very strangely as she scooped some of the dry, herbal leaf blends into the filters. Glancing at Korra out of the corner of her eye, she asked, "So who's this other guy, then?"

Korra dropped her butter knife.

"What?"

"Oh, come on—I know that look," Asami laughed. "Same look, different boy—who are you pining after now?"

"_Wha_—I don't—I don't _pine_!" Korra blushed, feeling the lie slip between her teeth. "And nobody!"

_Shit! Dammit! Motherfucking hell! Motherfucking cosmic polar bears and—_

"All right, fine," Asami smirked, turning away. "Nobody, then." Korra visibly sagged against the chair, unable to hide her tremendous sigh of relief.

* * *

"If you want to play it that way, I'll humor you. But hear this, Korra... as you probably already know: I'll get it out of you eventually."


	56. Korra started making Tahno commit

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.**  
Word Count: **410**  
Author's Notes: **7_/3/13._ Oh god. I just had the most stressful experience trying to send this file from my iPhone to my computer. I proofread the drafts on my commutes to and from camp, and my writing app quit on me yesterday, so I wasn't able to upload any new chapters. :( I finally ended up just having to revert back to the most recent copy saved to my desktop and manually (re)updating all of the edits that I'd made over the last two days while riding to work. Womp, womp. :P

**Musical Inspiration: **"On Top of the World" by Imagine Dragons. (Because it's ironic. Ha ha.)

**Gifted To:** _roarlikethunder  
_(Because I am now 100% sure it was you who suggested that this coffee shop boy grow a bit bolder over time...)

* * *

**That one night  
**

_Korra started making Tahno commit to the contract._

* * *

"One extra hot caffe mocha—"

"No whipped cream, right?"

Tahno frowned.

"Sir?"

"Yes," he tightly replied.

He managed to keep his annoyance mostly in check, but the brat wasn't making it easy; Tahno tried in vain not to recall the previous day—_Wednesday_—when he'd briefly considered rearranging his delicate work schedule simply so his coffee trips wouldn't coincide with this same stupid cashier's shifts, over and over.

The barrista already knew not to grab one of the cardboard cups from the stacks, and instead reached his hand out for the reusable mug that was beginning to take up permanent residence in Tahno's bag. Once that was settled, he sauntered off behind the counter to make his intern her drink. Apparently, if the slight bounce in his swagger was anything to go by, their continued business with one another was leading this boy into a false sense of familiarity.

Tahno inspected the kid as he went about making his order. He _looked _like should have been in high school, but that deliberately twitchy air of arrogance and naivete smelled strongly of college. _A ringleader, perhaps? _Tahno ventured, looking for signs of foul play. He was well-built, so perhaps he was an athlete. Then, refusing to develop any sense of affinity based purely on potential athleticism, Tahno sneered.

"What kind of name is Skoochy, anyway?" he asked, once the barrista had returned with his intern's drink.

The college kid merely smiled, rubbing the front of his nose. Tahno hoped he _washed_ those hands. "The kind known for making a kick-ass coffee," he offered glibly. "You could even ask the person you keep buying it for, if you need confirmation."

Tahno's eyes narrowed, but curiosity got the better of him. "What makes you think it's not for me?"

This barrista named Skoochy merely laughed, ruffling Tahno's feathers even further. "Most people enter a coffee house looking grumpy; you look grumpy even when you leave," he announced boyishly, slinging an arm over the top of a coffee grinder. "That caffeine definitely isn't for you. But I bet the person you buy it for is pretty all right."

Wordlessly, Tahno reached for the to-go cup resting between them, settling Skoochy with a sour look. Without another comment, Tahno turned on his heels and left.

"See you tomorrow!" Skoochy called, just before the door slammed shut behind him.

* * *

Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, he did _not._


	57. Korra put Tahno in a headlock

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.**  
Word Count: **1,678

**Author's Notes: **_7/3/13._ So I was actually planning on posting #56 and #57 yesterday and taking a hiatus today for the 4th of July, but since my files went all crazy, I feel a little out of sorts. I'm not sure when I'll do the next update. Maybe tomorrow? Maybe Saturday? Who knows! And then we'll get back to your irregularly-scheduled programming. Just a few more chapters to this particular story arc and then I'll get back to working on _Personal Record _and the _break the ice _series. This arc should be wrapped up by the end of next week!

Also, I just have to say: I was actually really, really worried about how I was going to fit this prompt in. :P But as usual, Tahno and Korra found a way...

**Gifted To: **_anonymous!_

* * *

**That one night  
**

_Korra put Tahno in a headlock._

* * *

"Take your stupid coffee."

Korra jumped up at the sound of her to-go cup crashing down on the table. Blinking, she raised her eyes to meet his. "Good afternoon to you, too," she muttered.

No response.

Perplexed, Korra glanced at the large calendar on the wall. It usually laid over his desk, but his paper-piles were getting so strangely sloppy nowadays that it made his dates and deadlines almost impossible to read, so she'd gotten into the habit of hanging it above the couch when he wasn't around. "Dude, I know it's Thursday, but really—you're making good progress, workaholic or no. And look, you're only twice as crazy as normal," she pointed to the calendar, waggling her eyebrows. "Which is a marked improvement from my 'Conference-Prep Professorship-Sanity' predictions."

Tahno's look was dry as he rolled his eyes, and then he slugged his way toward his desk. _All right_, she frowned in disappointment, carefully taking hold of her cup in both of her hands. _Looks like he's not in the mood for jokes today_. She'd expected him to be (especially) short-tempered due to all of his end-of-the-year deadlines, but even this was a little stiff. _Tahno is a freak. He totally lives for this stuff! Well. Usually anyway_. _Maybe the workload is finally getting to him?_

"Hey," she tried again, settling back into the couch. "It hasn't been that bad of a week."

"It's not the _week_ that's been bad," he muttered, just loud enough for her to hear. Frowning again, Korra decided to ignore it.

"Mmm," she hummed, gingerly sipping her caffe mocha. She smacked her lips. "Delicious."

His bag slammed down onto his desk, causing Korra to spill some of the hot liquid over her lips. "What the hell, man?" she snapped, patience torn. She caught the flow of hot coffee trickling down her chin with her fingers. "What's got your panties in such a twist?"

Tahno sent her a mean glare from under the fringe of his bangs, but didn't deign to answer. Instead, he shuffled the papers on his desk and ordered, "Make sure those documents don't get any coffee stains on them this time."

Korra huffed, then bit down on her tongue almost painfully; she was determined not to let Tahno ruin her afternoon. "Aye, aye, sir!"

"I've told you before, intern: you are _not _a pirate."

_Dammit,_ Korra bit the inside of her cheek, feeling restless. How was she supposed to get anything done when he was in a state like this? _And I was having such a productive afternoon, too..._ Korra shifted on the couch, twisting herself so that she could face him at his desk. Playing with the plastic lid to her coffee, Korra feigned nonchalance as best she could and asked, "Don't you think that nickname is getting a little old?"

Unfazed, Tahno continued sorting through his piles. "What else would I call you?"

"Um," Korra frowned testily. "By my _name_?"

"Not likely."

Biting her lip, Korra mustered her courage and said, "Well, I'm not going to be your intern forever." His hands stilled, but he didn't look up. "I mean," Korra shrugged, plowing onward. "You're going to graduate soon, and I'm going to find another lab, eventually."

"Lab?" Tahno snapped, pinning her with an formidable glare. "What lab?"

"_Eventually_," she sighed in exasperation. "I haven't started looking or anything."

"Good," he said, a little too quickly. "Because your obligations lie _here_. No matter what your scholarship says."

"Oh, yeah," she scoffed. "Try telling that to the W.L. Committee."

"The what?"

"Never mind," she shook her head. "Not important."

"Huh," he mused aloud, letting the stack of papers drop to his desk. He swiveled in his chair, back-and forth, as a thoughtful look crossed his face and a pen danced over his knuckles. "Actually... that could work."

"What?" Korra demanded, sitting up. A few more drops of hot coffee spilled onto her fingers. With a hiss of pain, Korra quickly set the cup back onto the table. "I _said_ I'm not leaving, all right? You can't go back on—"

"No, no, not that," Tahno waved dismissively, then turned a devious smirk her way. "Your scholarship. I found a new moniker to call you by."

It took a moment, but eventually realization set in.

"No," Korra glared.

He smirked. "_Yes_."

"Tahno," she warned, eyes slanting dangerously. "You wouldn't dare."

"Wouldn't I?" he quipped. He let the syllables roll of his tongue, almost lovingly. "Avatar?"

Korra slammed her fist down onto the table. "I'm not kidding, Tahno!"

He watched the display of anger with a lackadaisical air, clearly amused. Almost laughingly, he promised, "Nor am I."

Korra's nostrils flared, desperately seeking a long, calming breath. "Please don't call me that."

"What? You don't prefer this one to the others?"

"I would prefer my _name_."

"Interesting," he smirked, obviously in a much lighter mood than when he'd first entered the lab. _Great_, Korra rolled her eyes. _I've gone and cheered him up. Fabulous. Good going, Korra._

"What is?" she sighed.

"I wasn't seriously going to consider using your scholarship title because it loses the oh-so-satisfying effect of reminding you that I'm in charge, and both _intern _and _freshman _have found special places in my heart," he mock-sighed, while Korra tapped her foot impatiently against the armrest of the couch. "I mean—lowly lab assistant, barely-out-of-college grad... Both appealing options, yes."

"Your point?"

"Making a habit of referring to you as the recipient of the university's most unique and prestigious learning opportunity was not something I considered appealing... until you made it clear just how much it bothers you when I do."

Korra's left eyebrow twitched. "Well, that does seem to be your specialty," she smiled through gritted teeth.

"So, it's settled then."

"Tahno, I don't think you realize just exactly what I'm telling you here," Korra pleaded, starting to grow legitimately anxious. "I told you—I don't want that title being advertised!" _And especially not here! _"I'm not even supposed to be sharing that information until the W.L. gives me the approval at the end of the year! I still have to pass my final exams!"

"Are you asking that it be reserved for our private use, then?"

"_Tahno_!"

"Yes, _Uh-vatar_?"

Korra jumped to her feet, knocking papers and pens to the floor. Tahno leaned back in his comfortable desk chair, expectant and intrigued. "I am _warning_ you."

And then he did it.

A flick of his neck, a toss of that arrogant head—and Tahno went and flipped his hair at her.

"That is _it—_you smug, self-satisfied crock pot!"

"Whoah—ah—_what_ are you—?" He yelped, just before: "_Ugh! You have sticky coffee on your fingers!_"

"Promise me!" she hissed directly into his ear. Her right arm was wrapped tightly around his neck, while the other crossed her torso, gripping his arm tightly to her side. The computer chair was scattering behind them, bumping into the walls and window shades. His own arms were encircling her waist, trying to rip himself free of her hold, but she was a lot sturdier than she looked. As his feet stumbled back and forth, trying to wriggle out of her grasp, Korra locked her arm more tightly around his neck, burrowing his cheek into her ribcage. He thrashed and he bucked, and while she staggered with him a little bit, he was definitely out of luck.

"_Get—off—of me_!" he snarled, face contorting with uncomfortable rage. Tahno pulled on her arm, at her shoulder. He tried pushing at her waist, then barreling into her. He made a move to jump, then bent his knees to sink to the floor. And still, in this hold, he was like a floppy, raging rag doll in her arms. She was lucky that he'd apparently never been a wrestler... or a martial artist. Lucky for her, Asami had been the latter—_and boy, had she ever been. _Tahno didn't stand a chance.

"Not until you promise!" she demanded, feeling her lips accidentally brush against the skin of his ear. Tahno gurgled as her arm slipped just a little too tight and—alarmed—Korra loosened her grip. A little. "Do _not _call me that! Call me 'intern' or 'freshman' or whatever weird shit it is that you like—but do not—_ever_—call me—"

"_Uh-vatar!_"

"You are _so_ going to regret—"

"Hiring you?" he rasped, panting hard into the wrinkles of fabric at her hoodie. Korra let out a surprised snarl as he—briefly—managed to lift her feet from the floor. She planted her feet more firmly into the tiles and readjusted her grip, letting out a low, frustrated howl as she yanked him over her back, then flew him back onto the ground, her chokehold still firmly in place. A soft noise escaped him as he jerked, fingers scrambling to pull her arms away, but somehow he only managed to dig himself deeper. "This is—so—fucking—_unprofessional!_"

"Says the _doctorate _student who wore a—_hoodie_!" (A grunt.) "To his—" (A gasp.) "Meeting—" (A groan.) "With the Head of the—_Department_!"

Tahno hissed as if he'd been burned, then swerved his entire body, just enough to land Korra's lower back into the edge of his desk. Korra's brain swam with shock and indignation. With a surge of adrenaline, Korra rammed them both back into the desk, reveling in the grunt of pain that escaped Tahno's lips as his legs twisted amongst the wheels of his desk chair, which rolled chaotically about the floor. She held him there, avoiding the storm of office supplies that went soaring as they flailed about the desk.

"That was—_your_—idea!" he hissed, kicking uselessly at the floor. "And _your—_fucking—_hoodie_!"

"It's not _my_ fault you—_Ah!_" One of his stray kicks went flying into her calf. "Spilled coffee on yourself—like an—_idiot_!"

"Says the one with—sticky—coffee fingers!" he rasped, gasping for breath.

"Well, I won't be needing—one of—_your _shirts! That's for—_damn sure!_"

"Will you _stop_ fucking—talking—about—_the damn shirts!_"

"Just as soon as you _stop_—"

"_Uh-vatar_!"

"_Tahno!"_

"_Uh-vatar! Uh-vatar! Uh-vatar! Uh-vah—!"_

"Um... Should we come back later?"

* * *

And that night _also_ turned out to be that one night that Ming and Shaozu decided to visit the lab.


	58. Ming and Shaozu decided to visit the lab

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.**  
Word Count: **3,741**  
****Author's Notes: **_7/14/13_. I believe the actual prompt was: _Shaozu and Ming turn up to the lab and shamelessly flirt with Korra..._

**Beta'd **by **ebonyquill **and **Sophie**.

**Gifted To: **_tumultuously _&_ lemonedcurd  
_Enjoy!

* * *

**That one night**

_Ming and Shaozu decided to visit the lab._

* * *

**Thursday  
**_March 21st  
_(4:57pm)

She thought she heard one of the strangers whisper, "Is that like a weird safe word or something?"

Korra blinked back in shock.

And then she was thrusting herself away from Tahno, nearly tripping over one of the sturdy legs of the desk and most definitely elbowing Tahno in the face. (She was pretty sure that wasn't the first time that'd happened during the course of their history together either.) And it took far too long for their legs—which had grown tangled and intertwined throughout the course of their skirmish—to disengage, but once they were loose, Tahno and Korra were finally free, thrashing back away from one another as if they'd been burned.

Korra didn't know what to make of these two well-dressed strangers hovering in the doorway of their lab, or the very curious looks they were giving her supervisor. Or the studious stares they bestowed upon her. Or the curious looks toward her supervisor. Or the—

"_What _are you two doing here?" Tahno hissed, and really, Korra had to marvel at the guy's audacity. _Goddammit._ _Is there nothing in this world that will faze him? _His bangs had flopped over to the wrong side of his head, giving him a distinctly ruffled look; she doubted many other guys could slide their fingers through hair _that_ mussed with such blatant—_arrogance, superiority_—nonchalance. Especially after just having been pinned down to their leftover lab reports.

_Oh, my god, _Korra blanched, as realization came crashing down in a painful, jarring wave: two strangers had just walked in on her and Tahno having a typical lab-incident—_except this wasn't a typical incident! _her mind cried. _You just tackled your fucking supervisor! At work! On the clock! On his—wait. Wait a minute. What did he just say? How does he know them? They're not university professors, are they? Oh my god, Korra—cross your arms, cross your arms, follow his lead, look like you don't care about it either, you don't care, you don't care, just don't blush—don't blush, don't blush, whatever you do! Do—not—blush!_

She was blushing. (A little. A _little. _Nothing notable.

_Fuck._)

Hot damn, she didn't understand what was going _on _with her lately. A few months ago, two strangers walking in on her and Tahno having a wrestling match wouldn't have fazed her in the slightest. (What did _she _care what other people thought?) But then again, she reasoned (in the farthest recesses of her frantic, sparking mind) that a few months ago—a few _days _ago—she probably wouldn't have cared much about the implications of her and Tahno having a wrestling match in the first place. (What _were _the implications?!) And even further, it could be argued that a few months ago, the likelihood of Tahno and Korra outright wrestling atop his office desk—_oh my god_, _don't fucking blush!_

But she needn't have worried, for the strangers' attention was focused solely on Tahno now. They looked positively gleeful to see him. "You know," casually said the one with the brown hair, answering a question that she couldn't, for the life of her, remember. "We just happened to be in the neighborhood... and decided to drop in for a visit."

"Neighborhood, my ass," Tahno grumbled, sternly crossing his arms and leaning rather leisurely onto the edge of his cluttered (ruined) desk. Korra was admittedly too afraid to make any sudden movements, lest she draw their attention back to her; she didn't _think _she was in any danger of blushing anymore, but that was only as long as she didn't stop to think about the reality of what she'd just done to Tahno's body. With her body. _Fuck! Oh my—no_. No. Nope. That was not the best choice in words. _I am going to die, and then I am going to blush, and then I am going to crawl beneath the couch cushions and never come out._

"Well, hello there," said the slightly shorter one, the guy with the swirly, reddish-brown hair. It took Korra a moment to realize he was talking to her. She hadn't even noticed that her arms were actually crossed until her fingernails started digging into her skin. The guy quickly glanced back to Tahno, who was glowering from his desk. _How can he just keep sitting there! _Korra's mind spat, feeling itself spritz into oblivion. "Aren't you going to introduce us?" he prompted, addressing his somehow-acquaintance.

"No."

Automatically, Korra's eyes rolled to the side, fast and hard, and with the motion came a steady shock to her brain, as well as a long-forgotten stroke of maturity. _Leave it to Tahno, of all the crazy-ass people, to put this childishness in perspective...This is absolutely ridiculous. _With an exasperated sigh, Korra mustered her courage and held out her hand to the newcomer, sliding the other to her hip.

"I'm Korra," she said point-blank, extending her outstretched hand. "The intern."

Both of them looked at her then, and the effect was a little startling; as the strange, high-voltage atmosphere around them began to dissipate, a bit of clarity was beginning to seep in. The two of them regarded her as if they were actually seeing her for the very first time, as if she were suddenly now the most interesting person in the world. She waited for either of them to return the gesture, and was surprised when both of them quickly glanced Tahno's way; she didn't dare look at her supervisor, but she could feel the displeasure rolling off him in waves.

Then, as quickly as these newcomers' eyes had left, they returned. The one with the reddish-brown hair sealed the gesture with a warm, strong hand. "Nice to meet you, Korra," he said familiarly, as if they were sharing a private joke. "I'm Shaozu, one of Tahno's longest long-time friends."

"Lies."

Just as Korra started to turn in Tahno's direction, eyebrows drawing together curiously, the second stranger stepped forward, extending his hand as well. "Ming," he said simply, in a pleasant tone, though he, too, shared that strange smile.

"Pleasure," Korra muttered in slight confusion, dropping his hand. A few moments of awkward silence followed; Tahno looked perfectly content to sit in stony silence at his desk, looking at nothing, and Shaozu and Ming looked perfectly content to just, well. Look at _her._

"_So_, you guys are... friends?"

"More like brothers, really," Shaozu smiled, nudging Tahno with his elbow. (Judging from the look on Tahno's face, Korra absently hoped that he wouldn't miss it too much.)

"Teammates, originally," Ming added, and thank _god _at least one of them was acting somewhat sensibly.

"Then roommates, naturally, though that insanity has long since passed," said Shaozu.

Realization lit up Korra's eyes. She chanced a peek glance at Tahno, feeling unsure—roommates _were _a rather touchy topic nowadays—but decided to risk it, anyway. "Roommates, you say?" She smiled, recrossing her arms, much more comfortably than before. "That's funny. He's never really mentioned the two of you."

"That's not really all that surprising, actually," said Ming, who wore a rather thoughtful expression, though the slightest swell of smirk was beginning to emerge. "We'd honestly rather not talk much about him, either."

It was this comment, finally, that lured Tahno away from his stubborn stare against the wall. Korra couldn't deny the sliver of amusement she felt in watching Tahno's eyes slant so dangerously at _other _people, and she said as much.

"Oh, yes—you wouldn't believe the death glares we've received over the years. In fact, we could start a club. In _fact_, you should join us."

Korra felt her lips twist up into a smile, though she tried her best to smother it. (_Really_, she did.) "What, you mean band together against Tahno's abuse?" Tahno's nostrils flared, and one of his hand's immediately snaked up to his shoulder—toward the certain beginnings of black and blue, to where she knew she'd just recently forced him into some unforgiving wood. (_Er._)

"_My _abuse?" he demanded, clutching his shoulder and thankfully cutting through Korra's ridiculous line of thought. "Just who exactly do you think—?"

"We could hold weekly meetings and everything," Shaozu suggested, taking on a devilish grin; soon enough, Korra found herself matching his.

"All right," she agreed, after a moment of consideration. "Only if we can host it at Tahno's apartment, though. His TV probably beats any of ours."

"He _does _have a nice TV, doesn't he?" Shaozu nodded, peering back at the TV-owner in question, who was tapping his stiff fingers impatiently over his sleeve. Korra wasn't entirely sure what the deeper meaning behind _that _might have been, but he continued on a moment later, anyway. "And I hate to admit this to you, Korra, but Ming and I aren't usually allowed access to this TV."

"And by usually, we mean _ever_," Ming clarified.

Korra blinked, then turned to Tahno in open confusion; his back, hunched and stubborn, was all she saw. "Really?" When he didn't bother to respond, Korra merely shrugged. With a laugh, she reasoned, "Well, I guess that's one of the benefits of being able to use sex as a bargaining chip."

The air surrounding them immediately froze; Shaozu was the only one who spoke. "Um," he breathed. "Pardon?"

Korra was taken aback. _What did I say? _"Because of Asami, my roommate," she explained, perplexed. "You know? The girl he's seeing?" She turned expectant eyes on Tahno's back, which was twitching slightly. "I thought you would have told them _that, _at least."

"Oh, no," Shaozu nodded, looking nonplussed. Or shell-shocked. Or relieved... she couldn't be sure. "No, no, he mentioned that."

"Did he mention our contract?"

"All right," Tahno snapped, whipping around so that he could face the others fully. His eyebrow seemed to be twitching, too. "Enough of this. I want both of you out of my office—_now._"

But Ming's attention was caught. "Contract?" he echoed.

"Yeah. We've got a whole list of conditions posted to my fridge, all of which he needs to follow in order to visit my apartment regularly."

Shaozu and Ming twisted their heads to face Tahno, who now stood tall at the open door. It looked a little awkward, considering the way his hand rested on the door knob, and the way that neither of his supposed friends were coming any closer to leaving. _Whoops. He's not happy!_

"Visit your apartment regularly, you say?" Ming repeated, eyes still boring into his ex-teammate's. Ex-roommate's. Whatever.

"Uh, yeah," Korra nodded slowly, wondering if Tahno's friends always had the habit of echoing what other people said. But who knew—maybe Tahno liked that sort of thing in a friendship. _It'd certainly explain a lot about the discord between __us__, _she thought, thinking forlornly of the stiffness that was starting to creep into her bruising hips. _Ow._ "Because of Asami, my roommate," she said again.

"You know, that sounds like a marvelous idea. I'm not sure why we've never thought of it, ourselves."

"Because I'd kill you."

"He says that all the time," Shaozu stage-whispered, making Korra smile again. Tahno released a groan of frustration from the door frame, but nobody seemed to be listening.

"Even more so before he took those anger management classes," Ming added, matter-of-factly.

"Anger management?" Korra repeated curiously, looking back and forth between the three of them. "He actually took anger management?"

"What do you mean, _actually_?"

"In college," Ming explained. "Coach wouldn't let him play without it."

"Ah-_ha!" _Korra exclaimed, turning toward Tahno with victory in her eyes. "So you _were _an athlete! I knew it!"

"Yes, though it is difficult to see the fruits of his labor sometimes, I know," Shaozu nodded sagely, while Ming nodded along with him.

"Are you referring to his anger management? Or to his athleticism?" Korra asked, just to be sure.

Shaozu considered this. "Could you clarify your meaning of athleticism?"

"Like his hand-eye coordination?" Korra ventured. "Or his body?"

"His body?" Ming echoed, eyes wide.

"_Have _you seen his body?" Shaozu asked curiously.

"Have _you _seen his body?" Korra slyly evaded, feeling surprised at just how much she was enjoying this game. (It probably had something to do with the way Tahno kept banging his head into the door.) She could get used to this sort of tag-teaming, Tahno-abuse thing.

"Well, I have to admit, I haven't really been _looking_," Shaozu turned to Tahno, giving him a once-over. "Although if it will help me better understand the fruits of which you inquire, I'd be happy to compare. I mean—unlike bacteria-obsessed Tahno here—I _am _still an athlete, myself."

Korra's head cocked to the side, her smile curling with mischief. "Are you?" she asked, and holy _crap_, what just happened to her voice? (Korra knew _sly, _she knew _suggestive, _and she definitely knew _candid_. Was that... _coy_?)

"Yes, though I must admit that because of this, the fruits of my labor may have a very unfair disadvantage over his. In fact, if you're really curious about the fruits—"

"All right! That's enough!" Tahno spat, giving the door knob a vicious twist. "No more talking about any fucking fruits!"

"Can we talk about your labor, then?"

"_Out!_"

But Korra merely laughed, startling them all.

(Because, in a split-second of self-reflection, Korra had realized that she was... surprised.) _Is this what it feels like..._

_To be Asami?_

_To have random boys give you this sort of attention? And not the creepy ones or the jerks, either, but... cute, funny guys? _She'd never really experienced this before, not really—and especially not while Asami was around; she was enjoying herself, she realized. And it was all the more fun that Tahno was standing right there, watching. She couldn't really explain why that made her feel the way it did—a tiny bit vindictive, a tiny bit proud—to see him watching their conversation with ever-present irritation. It wasn't like any of this was the tiny bit serious. But it felt nice. Fun.

Which was probably why it was best for her to leave.

"You know what?" she managed in between a few breaths of (nervous) laughter. "Don't even worry about it. There's no way I'd be able to focus on work anyway, after all this nonsense." And with that, Korra immediately turned and began packing up her things, much to the trio's varying levels of dismay.

"Wait a minute. Where the hell do you think you're going?" Tahno demanded, clenching the door handle more tightly.

"Home," she glibly replied, shrugging her backpack onto her shoulder.

"You still have an hour on the clock!"

"I'll survive without the cash. And I've already finished today's workload, anyway."

"You—you can't leave now! The conference is barely more than two weeks away!" he sputtered, striding forward, friends forgotten. "We have a schedule to keep!"

"Don't worry," she sighed, though she honestly couldn't pretend to be as annoyed as she thought she should have. She brushed past him to pause in the doorframe. "The lab reports are already done, and the cells have been prepared for tomorrow."

"But we still have—"

"Seriously. By the time you showed up with my caffe mocha, I was already onto requesting the transportation equipment from the Biology department. Believe me, if there _is _a schedule, we're ahead of it."

He looked a little surprised, but no less determined to argue.

(A troubling notion: _What would be more awkward? _she thought to herself. _To leave now, when he so clearly insists that I shouldn't... or to actually put down my stuff and stay?_)

"Look, I finished all the report drafts before you got here. You'll be fine. Just read over the notes I left you on your presentation speech, make sure to take your goggles out of the sanitizer before you leave so you don't lose them, and don't procrastinate reading your e-mails like you usually do." She reconsidered this, and amended, "At least not for very long."

She was another step beyond the door before Tahno could get anything out. "I'll still expect you to make up this hour," he announced sternly. "I'll be here as early as ten tomorrow morning," he added meaningfully. (A tad presumptuously.)

Korra blinked. _Uh-oh_. "Didn't you read my e-mail?" At his dry look, she groaned aloud. "Of _course, _you didn't." _Honestly! In what universe am __I __supposed to be the fucking responsible one?_

"I am on a _schedule _and I don't have time for—"

"I'm not coming tomorrow," she informed him, and then quickly back-stepped closer to the lobby—and farther from what was sure to be an impending implosion. "I've got scholarship meetings all day."

His nostrils flared. _Yikes. That can't be safe._

"You have _all_ _day_ meetings for—"

"Best of luck!" she cried cheerily, hiding behind a painfully-wide smile as she backpedaled out to safety.

"Wait a fucking minute!" he called, stalking after her into the old, grungy lobby. He looked out of place with the old fading wallpaper and his designer jeans. His long, white lab coat usually hid (most of) them from view, _but I digress_, Korra gulped. "You can't just fucking skip a day _and _leave early!" he snapped, striding forward. She was half-way to freedom, but he was still closing in.

Without looking back, Korra swerved to the right and missed the fake-marble pillar that she knew was there; she'd walked through this lobby so many times in the last half-a-year alone that doing it backwards was no problem. Korra bet she could have done it in her sleep. (Not that she would ever sleep there. Tahno's influence—_insanity_—might have been rubbing off on her in some ways, but sleeping in a bacteria-infested closet was still way off her bucket list.) She climbed down the steps to the main exit, sliding her hand along the railing. "Don't think of it as early—think of it as effective time management!"

"And you should think _unpaid _internship."

"Professor Tight-Pants, really," Korra said, feeling a slice of irritation creep into her weird nervousness. She was almost to the doors. _Just another step. _(But he'd reached the railing now, too, and the pros and cons of flat-out _running _were—) "You'll be far more productive, anyway. And now you have your friends for company." If she'd wanted to make a quick getaway, this was not the right thing to say.

"They are _not _my fucking—"

"All right, all right," Korra said quickly, as her back pressed into the glass of one of the main doors. "Got it. Lifelong frenemies, ex-teammates, ex-roommates—got it. But I still have to go."

"You can't just keep dropping off your schedule whenever it pleases you! You made a commitment and you—"

"_Sent an e-mail_. In advance."

"Doesn't anyone ever bother to send a fucking _memoooo—_why are you touching me."

Korra glanced down to his chest, where her palm laid flat against his sternum. She hadn't realized that she'd even moved. Blinking back up into his eyes, she quickly deduced the reason why.

"Why are you so close to me?" she asked, though it was barely more than a whisper. The door was against her back, her head connected to the glass; safe to say, Tahno had reached the bottom of the steps.

She could clearly see the exact moment realization flashed across his eyes. Which was all the more confusing when Tahno replied, "I'm not close to you." And even more so when he didn't bother to move farther away.

Her lips were moving of their own accord when she smirked, "Then I'm not touching you."

"You are most definitely touching me."

"And you are most definitely closer than you need to be."

"I was following _you_," he snapped defensively, and his irritated grit held the slightest tune of a whine. "I didn't make you walk backwards into a door. You're the one who stopped."

"_You_," she corrected, feeling her lips grow dry. A flash of impulse, the barest trace of thought—and Korra pressed her hand more firmly into the warmth of his chest. "I stopped _you_."

His eyes flickered back-and-forth, flitting between hers. "Why are we arguing about this?" he asked.

In a bizarre twist of intuition, Korra realized that if she wanted to escape—

_Now _would be the time to do it.

"Tahno," she began, in a much louder (stronger) voice. "You somehow managed to survive in this lab _before _I showed up; I'm confident that a few hours won't kill you. And besides," she lowered her chin, looking at him reproachfully. "I think you and I both know that the productivity level in that room has been irrevocably destroyed for the evening."

It was a moment before Tahno answered; in the space of that moment, Korra became acutely aware of the fact that her hand was still on his chest. And of the heart beating inside it.

"I didn't realize you even knew what the word 'irrevocably' meant."

And just like that, the moment shattered.

(_Moment? What fucking mo—?_)

Korra cleared her throat.

"Face it, Tahno," she said smoothly, clenching the fabric of his shirt—_black_—between her fingers. Tahno's eyes widened as she pulled him down, as she leaned in—_closer_—and, in a conspiratorial stage-whisper oh-so-similar to Shaozu's, mockingly said, "I'm afraid that if I stay here any longer, all I'll be able to think about are your laborious fruits, which include—in case you haven't realized—your naked body."

Before he had a chance to get his bearings, her fingers flexed and released, the heel of her palm pressed unforgivingly into his chest, and Korra sent him staggering backwards up onto one of the stairs. Her back pushed against the handle bar and the door swang open wide, assaulting Korra's bangs with a cool spring breeze. One step, two steps—free.

She spun on her heels, only barely snapping her gaze over her shoulder at the last moment to salute. "See you Monday!"

"What?" Tahno called from inside the doors, in genuine confusion. "_Monday_?"

But no _way _was Korra stopping now.

* * *

She wasn't sure if he would have followed her out to the car, but she didn't give him much of a chance to try; she didn't even bother to buckle her seatbelt before tearing out onto the main, empty road.

It wasn't until Korra was behind the wheel of her (Asami's) car, waiting at the first red light, seatbelt sticking, that Korra realized that what had bothered her was not that she had lost her cool long enough to attack her supervisor, but rather that she had attacked her supervisor... and then gotten _caught._

* * *

And to make matters worse, she'd left her caffe mocha on the table.


	59. Tahno wished for new friends (Part I)

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.  
**Word Count: **213**  
****Author's Notes: **___7/15/13_. No fear! Think of this as a transition chapter. I'm hoping to post the "real" reaction chapter later tonight. ;) Please review!

**Beta'd **by **ebonyquill **and **Sophie**.

**(Bonus!)**

* * *

**That one night**

_Tahno wished for new friends. _(Part I)

* * *

**Thursday  
**_March 21st  
_(5:08pm)

He was officially one hour and twenty minutes behind his intended schedule.

(Unofficially one hour and forty minutes if one included the nosy-barrista setback at the coffee house, which he did.) Between the rush-hour traffic and the broken scan-card reader at the building's main entrance (and the four minutes it took to fish out the archaic, rarely used, first level security key from the bottom of his bag—_stupid lock_), Tahno was already way off track by the time he'd arrived at the lab. Things... had only gone downhill from there.

And it didn't get any better when, after having watched his intern's car speed away, he returned to his office.

Paperclips and empty microscope slides littered the floor. The piles he'd been pretending to arrange just a few—_eleven_—minutes prior were strewn about the room. The desk chair had fallen on its side, sprawling pathetically under the dreary window shades, wheels hanging uselessly in the air like an upended turtle. The calendar—_his _calendar—had been hung up on the wall above the couch, but one of the tacks had come loose so that it fell crooked against the dingy paint, and standing in the middle of it all—

"Um," said Shaozu, who had the gall to look uncomfortable. "Maybe... we should have called?"


	60. Tahno wished for new friends (Part II)

******Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed. ******  
**Word Count: 2,888  
**Author's Notes: **_7/15/13_. Here it is! The Wolfbats' Reaction chapter you've been waiting for. ;) Also, fun fact: I love hearing readers' _TON_ headcanons. A few of the contract's conditions are dedicated to you, **roarlikethunder**! Special thanks to her, **Inwen, kaname's harisen, **and **ShoeNinja**... you guys are some of the most faithful reviewers ever!

(Mostly) **Beta'd** by **ebonyquill **& **Sophie**. (I actually added a whole other section to the very beginning of this chapter! If you seen any typos, please let me know... They are my own fault. :P)

**Gifted To:**_  
roarlikethunder, Midnight4568, Inwen, kaname's harisen, _& _ShoeNinja_

* * *

**That one night**

_Tahno wished for new friends. _(Part II)

* * *

**Thursday  
**_March 21st  
_(5:21pm)

"Sooooo," Shaozu shifted awkwardly to the balls of his feet, clucking his tongue as Tahno tried to make the best of the hurricane that had hurdled through his office. A stapler fell to the floor with a pitiful clatter, but Tahno wasn't in the mood to pick it up.

He ignored both of them.

"So," Shaozu repeated, tongue clucking on. He was going to lose it soon, if he wasn't careful; Tahno amused himself while restacking a few document piles by imagining how he might best remove it from his person. So entrenched in his fantasy was Tahno, that he almost didn't hear when Shaozu actually began speaking full, human sentences.

"So, you wanna explain to us what just happened here?"

Very carefully, Tahno tapped the edges of his pile against the flat surface of the desk.

"No."

He didn't bother to look at his teammates' expressions, but it wasn't hard to imagine; the dryness of their impatience alone was probably enough to crack their faces wide open. This, too, amused Tahno.

"You sure about that?" Shaozu continued. Tahno caught the slip of implication laced into his tone, but the only indication that he'd paid attention was the slight flexing of his fingers over the neat stack.

Very clearly, Tahno warningly replied, "Positively certain."

Shaozu paid it no heed. "I'm just gonna let you know now, it'd probably be in your best interests to shed some light on the situation. Because if you don't say anything, I'll be forced to draw my own conclusions. And believe me," he trailed off suggestively, at which point Tahno _did _look up. "My imagination is feeling very... _active_ today."

_Ignore him_, Tahno's mind urged. He slowly slid his gaze back to the small mountain of paperclips he collected just a few precious (two) minutes before, which he started placing back in a small jar on the corner of the desk, one-by-one. _He wants nothing more than a reaction. _And he wouldn't be providing any, Tahno decided, even as his left eyebrow began to twitch. (Again.) It didn't take a genius to realize that his old teammates had gotten more than their fair share of ammunition this afternoon. He'd have to go dig up some new dirt on them, and quick. _Goddammit_, he thought, cursing his intern. Why did they have to show up at the lab on _today_ of all days, precisely at the worst possible moment? Curse his impulsive intern. Curse his spontaneous friends. _Ex-teammates. _Did no one care that he was currently in the process of achieving his doctorate? Did know one remember that, currently, he was _literally_ the busiest (the most stressed, most determined, most _psychotic_) he'd ever been in his entire life? Did no one care about the fact that he was merely weeks away from the biggest, most harrowing challenge of his young (academic) life?

"Goddammit, Tahno—admit it!" Shaozu suddenly snapped. "You were totally holding out on us!"

Tahno's nose wrinkled with displeasure. "I was doing nothing of the kind."

"You _so _were!" Honestly, if Tahno had a nickel for every time Shaozu said the word— "Never, at any point during your tirades, in the bathtub or otherwise, did you mention that your intern is smoking hot!"

The twitch was becoming a permanent feature of his eyebrow.

"Sorry," he dryly replied. "Must have slipped my notice."

Shaozu snorted. "Yeah, _right_. What were his exact words, Ming? Something like 'wanting a lot to fuck his intern'?"

Ming, who had stayed mostly silent and reflective over the course of the last few minutes, corrected, "I believe the actual quote is closer to, 'I want _a lot_ to fuck my intern a lot'."

Tahno sniffed delicately, ignoring the insistent twitching of his eyebrow. "Doesn't ring a bell."

"Oh,_ come on_, man—even you can't deny that something is totally going on between you and your intern... Who is stronger than you. And can very clearly pin you to your desk. Have I mentioned, by the way, how unfair it is that _you_ are able live the life you live?"

"I'm sorry. Would _you_ like to write an eighty page thesis on the activity and biological influence of swamp bacteria? Because, by all means—"

"You can't _honestly_ tell me that the great Tahno of Undergrad wouldn't have been the least bit intrigued by someone so willing to out you in your place!"

There was not a single thing about this conversation that Tahno liked. "We aren't in undergrad anymore," he said, because it was true and it seemed to be he only safe response. After all, as he'd noted before: his intern had revealed more ammunition (in six minutes) than she could have ever realized, and he was not at all prepared to cope with it today.

"You _are_ getting old!"

"I believe the word you are looking for is mature."

"No, the word I'm actually thinking of is—"

"So now what?"

Tahno and Shaozu paused, blinking at Ming. "What do you _mean_ now what?" asked Shaozu. Tahno narrowed his eyes at both of them; he'd been wondering the same as Shaozu, but that didn't make Tahno any less pissed at him for asking.

"Well," Ming thoughtfully began. "Since you're still dating Asami—"

"Not dating."

"Whatever. You're with her. Where does that leave your intern?"

"Nowhere."

Ming stared at him blankly, quite like a malfunctioning android might. "Nowhere?"

Tahno threw his hands into the air. "At the lab, then! I don't fucking know!"

"Even though you visit her apartment regularly?"

"_Their_ apartment," Tahno snapped, hissing as he stabbed himself with a jumbo paperclip.

"Wait a minute. I thought Ming was asking in a figurative sense. Do we literally mean _where_ is Tahno's hot intern? Because I'm pretty sure she just fled from his crazy-ass ten minutes ago, unfortunately. _Oh_! And what the fuck, man? How come _she_ gets Tahno-TV privileges? If sex is what you gotta have as a bargaining chip to get some HD quality, then trust me, I'd be happy to—"

"And what about Asami? What are your plans for the roommate?" Ming cut in, before Tahno could appropriately pummel his ex-roommate.

"Back the fuck off, both of you!" Tahno snapped. "The intern is an intern; she is a thorn in my side, but regrettably imperative to my success—provided that we don't have a couple of assholes coming in unannounced and fucking with our work schedule! She's using my TV because it was one of the best conditions she presented me with when we made that _godforsaken_ contract, and because it doesn't require much of any actual effort on my part. Asami, the woman I happen to be sleeping with based on mutual convenience and attraction, texted me two hours ago about coming over for dinner tomorrow night, meaning that things are exactly as they should be. _That _is fucking where we all fucking stand, thank you very fucking much."

"Yikes, man. No need to get so worked up about it."

"So what?" Ming asked, before Tahno's fist connected with Shaozu's face. "You're going to get it on with Asami while your intern is right there in the apartment?"

"Please," Shaozu scoffed. "Even an asshole like Tahno wouldn't be _that_ much of a dick."

Tahno scowled.

"Oh, no," Shaozu breathed, eyes widening. "You wouldn't."

"For your information—not that it's any of your business—tomorrow night's dinner is specifically sex-free, courtesy of Sato's undying courtesy and consideration. She tries to respect her roommate, you assholes."

His teammates didn't look entirely convinced. "Wait a minute," Shaozu's face scrunched together. "You have a _date_, but you're not dating?"

"We are not dating," Tahno repeated, refusing to elaborate on such an inane question.

"Then what are you?" Ming asked curiously.

"She likes to call it fuck-buddies, I don't know," Tahno snapped, accidentally bending another stack of papers when he slammed it too hard on the desk.

"Fuck-buddies?" Ming echoed curiously.

"But I thought you said you weren't having sex!"

"Not _currently_, you moron!"

"I don't know," Shaozu huffed skeptically, crossing his arms. "A couple who is eating dinner and isn't having sex? That sounds suspiciously like a date."

"Like _yours_, maybe."

"Enough," Ming snapped, effectively cutting off yet another sure-to-be physical altercation. It wasn't often that Ming used his commanding voice, and it was enough to send Tahno retreating into sulky, resentful silence. Under his breath, Shaozu angrily muttered, "_His fault." _After a stern glare, Ming turned to Tahno, his serious-contemplation face appearing in full force. "What is up with you?" he asked, and if Tahno didn't know better, he'd think he was almost concerned. "I have never seen you resist someone with such determination before."

"Yeah! Well. Except for those two chicks who used to show up at all the games and follow us to all the bars, but after a while, even _I _understood—"

"_Shaozu_."

"Man, I am totally over this conversation. For fuck's sake, why don't you just swoop in and take her! If you and this other chick are really as casual as you say you are, then shouldn't you be able to just—"

"Shaozu, don't you dare finish that thought," Ming warned, eyes still glued to Tahno. It didn't matter if Tahno had once been _his_ captain; he still felt uneasy under Ming's weirdly perceptive gaze. "Unless you think that it could jeopardize your work? You mentioned something of that nature in the bathtub."

"Can we _please _stop bringing that up?"

"Which part?" Shaozu piped in. "The part about you being too much of a coward to accept the advances of your intern—and, given the circumstances, _advances _is putting it lightly—or the part about the bathtub?"

"Or is it the fact that she's still seeing this Mako character?"

Tahno let the current pile fall to the desk with a sickening smack of paper on wood. _One. Two. Three. Four... _

"Oops. We've triggered the techniques. Abort?"

"No, no," Ming softly dismissed, watching Tahno carefully. "Let's see how this plays out. Keep going."

Shaozu lit up. "All right! How about this—if _you_ won't take her... maybe I will."

Abruptly, Tahno scoffed and picked up the stack of documents he'd just dropped. "Get real," he muttered, then immediately resumed counting. _Crap_. He'd lost count. _One. Two. Three..._

"What!" he demanded, offended. "She was totally into me!"

"Shaozu, I don't believe it was _you _pinned down to the desk."

"Oh, look—his eyebrow is twitching again."

Tahno was annoyed.

If he would have actually stopped to think about it in between stacks, he would have realized just how _severely_ annoyed he was that his friends came to the lab, unannounced. That he'd been caught in such a compromising position. (That he'd been in such a position, literally, to begin with.) That his friends were flirting with his intern. (That, unfathomably, she was flirting _back._) That he was feeling especially annoyed about that last bit, which he would have _refused_ to admit to—because that would have been ridiculous. (Because Shaozu was no match for him.) _Oh,_ and because he obviously didn't even care for his intern that way, _thank you very much; _he didn't actually _care_ about her at all, aside from the fact that she kept him sane and mostly organized and sort of on-time and made his long days at the lab not-entirely-awful. This was simply a matter of control. Of possession. Korra was _his _intern.

_Get your own_, he thought viciously, not entirely sure where this train of thought had come from as he slammed down another pile.

"Okay. I think I need a freakin' recap here," Shaozu sighed dramatically, placing his fingers to his temples. "So, lemme get this straight: you've been invited over to _their _apartment for dinner with _Asami _tomorrow night, and the other one—your sexy, quirky, freakishly-strong intern—is coming over to _your _apartment this weekend," Shaozu stressed. "And you're not going to do... _any_thing? With _either _of them?"

"What about when you're watching whatever it is that you're watching?" Ming asked, hoping to clarify.

"We're not watching anything together," Tahno scoffed, crossing his arms defensively. "She's playing some video game or something." Shaozu's jaw actually dropped.

"To play _video games_?_" _He looked about ready to burst, nearly salivating... but once again, Ming beat him to the punch.

Ming looked to Tahno curiously. "I didn't think you played video games."

"I don't," Tahno replied shortly.

"So what will you be doing while she's over there?" he asked.

_A very good question. _Moping. Sulking. Ranting. The possibilities were endless. "Cleaning."

Shaozu blinked at Tahno a solid four times, then looked to Ming in dismay. "I want to disown him. Today."

Hot air flew from Tahno's nostrils. The inside of his cheek was raw from the abuse it'd seen since earlier that afternoon when this nightmare had all started, but it was nothing a good rinse of quality tequila couldn't fix. "It's one of the fucking _conditions_," he repeated snidely, his own tongue clicking impatiently against his teeth. _This conversation is going fucking nowhere!_

"For the contract," Ming repeated. His eyes took on a strange gleam, but Tahno refused to acknowledge it.

"Yes," Tahno hissed, who was loathe to explain himself, but who also refused to be made into an idiot by their persistent ignorance any longer. "It's made up of stupid little things—shit that only _she _would come up with. Never letting the snack jar inventory dwindle. Saving up money to invest in one of those new instant coffee machines for the office. Promising not to hide the radio anymore, and especially not in places that she can't reach—or at least not in any places where I think she won't be willing to climb. It also includes letting her use my TV for the new release of Halto—"

"Halo."

"Does it matter?" Tahno snapped.

"_God!_" Shaozu cried suddenly, blindly clutching at a nearby wall. Tahno rolled his eyes fiercely while Ming merely sighed. "You don't even _deserve _them. _Either _of them!"

"You haven't even met Asami yet," Ming pointed out.

Tahno stiffened in response. "_No_."

"_Roommates, _Tahno!" Shaozu insisted, flailing against the stark white paint of the wall. "Roommates! In undergrad, you'd have had them both by now!" _I don't get it. Is he complaining that I __do__ have them? Or that I don't? _Because all Tahno thought he had was a headache.

"Probably simultaneously," Ming chimed thoughtfully.

Tahno's scowl did not disappear. "This is _not_—"

"Let's be honest, Tahno," Shaozu groaned, collapsing against the wainscoting, seemingly exhausted. "You're losing your touch."

Indignation swelled in Tahno's chest. "I have _not _lost _anything_!"

"I think it has less to do with his aging and more to do with the ladies in question," Ming speculated, as if Tahno had not spoken. "These girls are just too smart for him."

"_Will you_—_!_"

"How does this happen, time and time again? He _always _gets the good ones!" Shaozu moaned, accidentally knocking over one of the neatly stacked piles... which Tahno had just reorganized.

Tahno promptly sent a kick flying into the desk, crashing his foot against the wood with a sickening crack, but the physical pain was dull compared to the sight of the last half-hour's work (thirty-two minutes, to be exact) actually flying through the air. As Shaozu fell against the wall, Tahno tore himself away from his desk, crashing through the office as if he were trying to sear his footprints into the floor with his angry stomps. From that point on, the broken chaos of the room rapidly plummeted into an all-out downward spiral.

"_This is a complete and total waste of—"_

"While I must admit that it does seem rather... fateful, that so many young women should continue to fall into his lap—"

"Dammit, Ming—from what I just saw, I'm pretty sure it was the other way around!"

"_Goddammit, what the fuck are you two still doing in my goddamn—!"_

"Shaozu," Ming reproached, smirking at his old roommate's frantic pacing about his destroyed office. Unlike the others, he was standing rather calmly in the center of the room, and he was not leaning against (or kicking) any of the lab's materials for emotional support. "This isn't going to make you feel any better," he reasoned, though it was not entirely clear which teammate he was talking to.

"That's because nothing will make me feel any better!" Shaozu's pout deepened, smearing across the wallpaper.

"Enough with the pity party, you leech—_I've got work to do! _Take your whining elsewhere! _Now!_"

"Hey!" Shaozu cried. "By now, I'd say it's _my_ fucking turn for a pity party," he spat ferociously. "You've already had plenty, bathroom boy!"

Unfortunately, Tahno found that, for once... he didn't have any witty reply.

* * *

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

"So... when are we gonna see her again?"

_._

_._

"Never."

_._

_._


	61. shit got even more complicated

******Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed. ******  
**Word Count: 4,434  
**Author's Notes: **_7/16/13_. And now... we are steadily approaching the** CULMINATION OF A STORY ARC THAT I HAVE BEEN DYING TO WRITE FOR MONTHS.** I'm hoping to have this whole story arc wrapped up by the weekend. Wish me luck! (FEED ME REVIEWS, BWAHAH. ;D)  
**Musical Inspiration: **"The Walk" by Imogen Heap and "Up in the Air" by Thirty Seconds to Mars.

**Beta'd** by **ebonyquill **& **Sophie**.

**Gifted To: **_anonymous!__  
_

* * *

**That one night**

_shit got even more complicated._

* * *

**Thursday  
**_March 21st  
_(5:31pm)

On the drive home, Korra came to the conclusion that all of _this _would be so much easier if she could just... like Mako.

_I mean. Is it really so hard to imagine? _she tried to reason. _I liked him once before... surely it's still locked in there somewhere. Deep, deep down. Right?_

_Wrong_, and Korra knew it.

But in a weird sort of way, she really wished it could have been; maybe in some other universe, they could fit together... a cookie-cutter romance, simple and direct—maybe with a little (a lot) of tension and a few misunderstandings—but otherwise plain and clear. (Sure, in this universe, he'd been into Asami first, _but._) _Who knows? _she thought to herself, climbing onto the last landing of the apartment's stairwell. _Mako's actually a pretty sweet guy. Most of the time. Some of the time. Maybe... we could actually work something out?_

Square One: the point at which Korra realized that she wasn't actually into Mako, that it was something she couldn't change, and that the reason may or may not have had something to do with the vague understanding that she was probably (definitely) into her sleazy supervisor... who her roommate may or may not have genuine feelings for. (Though she had no idea _why_. On either account.)

And to top it all off, she was hit with another shocking flashback of just thirty minutes prior, when she had been blatantly flirting with Tahno's long-time friends in the middle of his lab. _Blatantly flirting? _Korra groaned, leaning into the sticky wall for a moment, before grudgingly pushing onward. What was she _doing_? _It must be his influence_, she decided; there couldn't be that much crazy in one room without it affecting somebody eventually, Korra rationalized. And then her mind suddenly switched tracks, and again she wondered: _Is this really how Asami's feels all the time? With all the flirting and... does she feel this, too? This... desirable?_

Two minutes later, Korra slammed the apartment door shut behind her.

"What a weird fucking day," she muttered gloomily, trudging into the living room.

"Korra?" called a voice from Asami's bedroom. "Oh, good—you're home! I want to talk you about—"

"_Please _don't say 'double date' right now," Korra begged, collapsing forward onto the couch. Her face was squished against the armrest cushion for all of four seconds before she realized just what _other _kinds of activity that couch cushion had seen, and then Korra promptly rolled off onto the floor with a yelp and a flop. "I don't think I could handle it," she groaned into the carpet.

"Are you all right?" she crouched down, carefully brushing back the bangs from her roommate's face. Korra didn't see the point; her face was still buried in the rug. "Rough day?" Asami cringed.

_Rough? Rough doesn't even begin to cover it_. "Yes," Korra moaned.

Asami hummed in dismay, gently taking Korra's messy hair in her hands. "Probably not the best time to ask for a favor, then," she laughed softly, teasing Korra's scalp with her long fingernails.

"Asami, I _can't_."

"Oh, don't worry—it's not about the double date, silly."

Korra peered up at her roommate suspiciously; at no point, however, did she insist that Asami stop playing with her hair. "It's not?" she frowned. _Hmm. Tricky_. "Then what is it?"

"Okay, well. Before you freak out—"

"That is not the right way to start a favor request."

"I just want you to know that I am totally willing to do all of your laundry for two weeks, to take out the trash until the end of the month, _and _bake those cookies that you really, really like, just because. And to abide by all of the contract's rules, of course."

Korra slowly lifted her head, then turned to face her roommate more fully. Asami lowered herself down to the carpet so that she could sit cross-legged beside Korra, making it much easier to brush her fingers through her hair. _Ah, crap_, Korra realized too late. _It's a trap_.

"I'm listening," she grumbled.

"Okay," Asami smiled, trying to reel in her eagerness. "Okay, listen: I know things have been pretty strange around here lately, what with you being with Mako and me being with Tahno—"

"_Strange_?"

"Yes, which we've already talked about," Asami continued, giving Korra's side bangs a gentle tug. "Thoroughly. And I understand your hesitation about the four of us all going out together, even _though—_"

"I knew it! I _knew _it! You're just trying to butter me up so that I'll—"

"It would be good for us—but that's not what I'm asking you for! Right now. Right _now_, I'm not. I _also _understand that this animosity you have with Tahno, though probably a permanent feature of your friendship, isn't actually heartfelt."

_Wanna bet? _Korra internally grouched, feeling a frown creep over her lips. _Tell that to my left hip—the one that's going to be bruised tomorrow morning._

"And I know for a fact that you don't necessarily _mind _having him over—as long as he stays within the parameters of the contract. And brings you caffeine."

"Asami," Korra sighed, slipping a strand of hair behind her ear. Her roommate's fingers paused just above her shoulder. "What exactly are you asking me?" Asami seemed to deflate a little, and Korra noticed for the first time just how ragged her roommate looked. Tentatively, she sat all the way up, peering into the other girl's face. "What's wrong?" she asked her.

"I'm sorry, Korra," Asami breathed, offering her a small smile. "I've been kind of a wreck lately. I'm just... My dad is _really _pressuring me to start looking into this company that he's partnering with, and it's just not my thing. Between that and the schoolwork, it'd be enough, but—I just... Look, I didn't want to bring it up, because I know that you don't like talking about it—which I totally understand—and I've tried my best not to share it with you, because you don't deserve to have to deal with it anymore than you already do, and it's not fair that you're always taking the brunt of my romantic issues as it is, though I really do appreciate—"

"For chrissake, Asami, just spit it out," Korra's voice was hard, but not unkind. Worry danced behind her eyes. "What's wrong?"

Asami's shoulders sagged, heavy and defeated. Swallowing thickly, she lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry, Korra. I'm just... I'm feeling really confused about Tahno. Korra, I think I... I think I really _like _him. It's been this way for a couple of weeks."

Korra's mouth ran dry. "Why didn't you say anything earlier?" she whispered.

"I kept trying to convince myself that I didn't feel any differently," Asami admitted heavily, letting her head drop back onto the couch. Korra kept her gaze forward, but Asami's warm shoulder still pressed into hers. "And even when I _thought _I might... Korra, I didn't want to burden you with any of this more than I already have."

Her jaw tightened, and something like guilt and gratitude clawed up her spine. It was a sickening combination.

Asami released a shuddering breath, returning Korra from her haze. "I don't know, Korra. I just..." She trailed off, hands lying limply in her lap.

Korra swallowed, licking her lips. "You just want to figure it out," she finished for her, voice quiet.

"Yes," Asami sighed. "Yes, exactly."

Korra nodded, sucking her teeth. After a moment, she asked, "What do you need?"

Her eyes were grateful, gleaming with unshed tears. "I promise that I'll stay out of your hair tonight," she said first, laughing through her sad smile. "I'll go over to Tahno's tonight and give you any privacy you might need. But I would really, _really _like to have Tahno over for dinner tomorrow night. Just for dinner. I promise."

"Asami—"

"No, Korra," she insisted. "I promise. I'll do all of the other things I offered, with the cookies and the laundry and—and I swear that it will just be dinner. You can even come, if you like. In fact, I'd love you to, though I understand if you need a break from him for a bit."

Korra didn't know what to say.

"Sure," she nodded. Feeling hollow, Korra pasted on her best smile and shrugged. "Yeah. Why not?"

Asami's arms were around her a moment later, and she twisted her own around her roommate's delicate frame, hearing bells chattering in her ear, not understanding a single word.

* * *

(6:04pm)

"Hey," Mako stepped in, shaking the rain from his coat. "You called?"

Before he could finish—before he could even close his umbrella—she was on him, warm and grateful and hungry. His response was immediate—surprised—but not unwilling, and as the door closed behind him at the tap of his foot, the dripping umbrella clattered to the floor. She pushed him hard against the wall—took a quick moment to bolt the door—and began twisting her fingers in his hair, all without ever breaking their lips apart. Gone was his coat, her hoodie, his belt... and soon she was wrapped around his torso, clinging onto him as he carried her to the bed.

"I wasn't expecting to visit tonight," he whispered through a breathy laugh, kissing her cheeks. She didn't understand what possessed the boy to want to talk so much—and always at the most inconvenient times—but then his mouth was suckling at her neck, and things were right again.

Or, at least. She thought they were.

She gave it everything she had; her focus, her will, what was left of her energy... but kissing Mako—while as physically good as it had always been—was leaving her feeling empty. Drained. She redoubled her efforts, pushing through the foggy blanket of numb, but she was quickly losing a dying battle. Mako seemed to notice.

"Are you all right?" he asked, lifting his head to peer down at her. Her first instinct was to keep going forward, to lash out at him for stopping—_how __dare __he stop now, just when_—but one clear look at the concern in his eyes, and Korra came undone.

He held her in his arms as she deflated, and held her closer when she released a shuddering breath; it still wasn't completely right, Korra admitted, but this felt a lot better than what she'd been trying to accomplish before, and it felt too good to deny it now.

"You could have just told me this was what you needed," Mako murmured into her hair. Korra sighed, feeling her muscles relax deeper in the mattress, into his warmth.

"I didn't know what I needed," she answered softly, not entirely sure that it was wholly a lie. After all... _want _and _need _were very different things.

His long, calloused fingers found her hair, and Korra's eyes closed as Mako brushed the strands of hair away from her face. _This isn't so bad_, she thought to herself, feeling strangely content despite the turmoil she'd undergone just moments before. Mako had his flaws, but if there was one thing she'd come to learn about him after all this time, it was that he never failed to make her feel safe. Protected. _Precious_, _even._ Korra hadn't felt that way in a very long time... probably because she rarely allowed anyone close enough to try.

"I don't know how you do it all," Mako whispered into her hair, a trace of awe in his voice. "You keep up with your studies, help me with _mine, _do whatever the Weird Losers tell you to do for your scholarship—"

"Mako," Korra tried to scold, which would have worked if not for the breath of laughter that escaped her. "The W.L. does _not _stand for _Weird Losers_."

"Works for me," he muttered blandly, as a smile widened over Korra's lips, spreading into his chest. "You keep in touch with your family, you make time for your friends, all while helping out your uncle, and putting up with assholes on a daily basis... I just. I don't know how you do so much all at once. Sometimes I wonder if you're even human."

Korra snorted into his chest, which earned a curious look from him. "Please," she protested, thought she was, in fact, rather pleased. With a sleepy sigh, Korra shrugged and murmured, "I'm human, all right. But I guess that's the point of the scholarship..." She puffed out her cheeks and blew, feeling some more of the tension spin into the air. "Time management, discipline, and determination," she muttered dryly, as if reciting from a brochure. Maybe she'd read it once, in some packet from any of her meetings and orientations and check-ins. Maybe she'd hear about it all some more the next day, during any of her various scholarship meetings. She sighed again. "Multi-tasking things that no other human should be allowed to do."

"I guess so," Mako smirked down at her. "Looks like you are the Avatar, after all."

He laughed when she swatted at his face, connecting a meager tap to the tip of his nose. As he pulled her closer, she had to admit that she was feeling much better.

And maybe also that... at least, when it was Mako who called her that—

—maybe she didn't mind so much.

* * *

"Thanks, Mako," she whispered. "You're a good friend."

* * *

Although Korra hadn't known it before, Mako wasn't going to be able to stay long. He had promised Bolin to spend the night with their drinking buddies, so he only had another hour of stalling time before he would be whisked away to the flurry of a social life. He tried to invite her, which Korra appreciated, but she simply wasn't in the mood. So they passed the time in the kitchen instead, talking while Mako made her coffee, as an easy and companionable blanket of warmth hovered around them. Korra had opted for her sweatshirt and yoga pants, and was huddled within the comforting touch of fabric when Mako placed a steaming mug on the table in front of her.

She murmured her thanks, sipping contentedly as Mako washed her dirty dishes. It was funny, she decided. How such a big, tough-looking, stoic-sort-of-guy like Mako could be so quick to play the domestic card, but she supposed it made sense; he'd always taken care of Bolin, after all. _I guess it just sort of transfers over. _It was even funnier, she realized, that he _was _actually sort of... sweet. _When he wants to be_.

It was in the midst of this train of thought that Mako continued rubbing the damp washcloth over the face of the fridge—having already finished the counters—and just happened to glance at a certain napkin lying flat against the front, hung by an old, basic magnet. Korra noticed his pause, saw where he rested his gaze, and gently set her coffee mug onto the table.

Mako's voice was carefully devoid of any real emotion as he stared at the contract and said, "Caffe mochas, huh?"

Korra tentatively nodded from behind. It only occurred to her a few moments later that he couldn't have seen her, but that didn't seem to be a problem. "Whenever you want?" he asked.

"According to the contract... yeah," Korra cleared her throat, taking another soothing sip of coffee. "That's our, uh... agreement. It helps me survive the week. Or maybe the year, even."

Mako nodded, eyes scouring the rest of the page. "Well, it's good that you have some measure of control over him," he commented, though he didn't sound properly convinced. His eyes rested over a particular spot, catching something of interest, and then he turned back to her, disapproval shining in his eyes. "You use his TV for video games?"

Korra blinked. Out of all the sixty-four conditions, that was not the one she would have expected him to have questioned; she had a hard enough time remembering all of them herself—she had no idea how the hell Tahno managed to memorize so many of them. "Yeah?"

"What's wrong with our TV?"

"No offense, Mako," Korra pursed her lips. "But your TV is ancient. His apartment has a nice TV." _His apartment has a nice __everything_, she wanted to say, but somehow knew that it wouldn't come out quite right.

"You've been to his apartment before?"

_Oops. _Had she not mentioned that?

"Just once or twice," she shrugged. "For lab stuff."

He nodded once. "I see," he said.

_Ohh, great, _Korra sighed. _Now he's upset. _"Look, Mako. It's just a way for me to make him pay for all the shit he puts me through during the rest of the week. I know you're concerned, but trust me: if anyone knows how much of an asshole Tahno is, it's _me_. I'm not just gonna—"

A knock sounded at the door.

Surprised, Mako and Korra looked at one another. _Who is that? _Korra mouthed, jerking a thumb toward the door. Mako looked astounded. _I don't know! _He mouthed, incredulous, while his eyes screamed, _This is __your__ apartment! _Right. That, it was.

Sliding herself out of her seat and gently padding her feet over to the door in the living room, Korra peeked through the hole. And gasped.

Her fingers were a flurry of clumsy movement as Mako joined her in the living room, curious and wary of this unexpected visitor. Heart pounding, Korra whipped open the door, and stared into the face of her very wet, very welcome guest.

"You're here!" she beamed, standing tall and rigid as excitement coursed through her veins. "I thought that—we thought that you had—that you were—"

"Overseas," Iroh finished gently, offering her a kind smile and gentlemanly nod. Korra's hand tightened over the door handle, lest she pounce on him in excitement and ruin his fancy uniform. "Hello, Korra. It's good to see you."

"How long have you—I mean—hi," she smiled, bright and genuine. "Oh my gosh, I'm sorry—do you want to come in?"

Iroh glanced to her side, where she could suddenly feel Mako lurking behind. A brief moment of confusion shot through her, but after a moment it was replaced once again with the bubbling eagerness the sight of Asami's ex-boyfriend had brought.

"No, thank you," Iroh reassured her, looking so very, very tired. "I'm sorry to call upon you so late—I only just arrived a few hours ago. I had hoped..." His eyes subtly traveled beyond where she stood, searching the space behind her for something that she knew was not there.

"Oh," Korra sighed, feeling disappointing reality wash over her. "I'm sorry, Iroh. Asami's not here right now. She's..." _At Tahno's. _She bit her lip, desperately trying to think of way to get him to stay. "I'm sorry—I wish you'd called!"

But Iroh only shook his head, an ironic smile playing upon his lips. "I'm afraid I was not as prepared for this return as I hoped I would be."

"And have you?" Korra eagerly asked. "Returned, I mean?" _For good?_

"I'm on leave," he answered vaguely, smile wan.

"Oh," Korra breathed, feeling her insides clench. "And... you'll be here? In town?" She couldn't bring herself to say more.

"For an indefinite amount of time," he answered solemnly. His words might have offered her hope, but his tone did not. "Will you..."

"Tell Asami?" Korra whispered. He seemed to hesitate, even then.

"I'd like to see her," he admitted. "Before I leave again."

She could only nod, dropping her heavy head in disappointment. Seemingly without much more of anything to say, Iroh gave a sad smile and a solemn salute, and stepped back away. "Thank you, Korra," he said, one last time.

_Iroh! _her mind cried desperately, watching him walk away. _I love you, man—but your timing fucking sucks!_

"Iroh, wait!" Korra called, stepping out into the hallway to follow him. When he faced her again, standing tall and proud and so very defeated, a tiny ball of hope began to glow in her chest. She smiled, soft and bright. "I'm still rooting for you, you know."

He smiled back—a real one this time—and offered her a gracious bow. Then he turned on his heels, and left.

* * *

Mako was quiet as he gathered his things to go.

Korra's mind was still such a chaotic jumble that she barely noticed as he stormed about her kitchen, a brooding, gloomy thundercloud dragged in from outside. When the jarring sound of a clean pot being tossed onto the pile of other pots inside the cabinet ricocheted through her mind, however, Korra couldn't ignore his behavior any longer.

"Are you all right?" she asked, face twisting in confusion. _Why is he so testy all of a sudden? Honestly, he has been acting so fucking weird lately!_

"I'm fine," he answered tersely, placing a clean glass in the cabinet above the sink. The wooden door slammed shut.

"Dude, I can put those dishes away myself. You don't have to do any of that, you know."

Mako said nothing, but continued to put away the dishes that he'd dried. Korra frowned.

"Who was that?" he asked at length, wringing the used towel with his hands. "That guy that asked for Asami?"

"Iroh?" Korra frowned, as realization dawned. "Ah! Mako, I'm sorry—that was very rude of me! I just—I _totally _didn't expect to see him! Again. Ever, actually."

"So? Who was he?"

Korra heaved a heavy sigh, then leaned back against the countertop next to the sink, where Mako quietly worked. "That, unfortunately, is Asami's ex-boyfriend."

"So what's he doing here?" Mako asked, casually leaning back against the counter with her as he cleaned a spot off a glass. Korra offered him a strange look; she knew that tone well enough, and casual, it was _not_.

"Looking for Asami," Korra replied shortly. "Duh."

"He doesn't know that she's with your supervisor now?"

Korra's jaw tightened. "It's not like they've really talked," she said impatiently.

"So he just shows up? At your apartment? This late in the night?"

"Mako, he just said that he only just got back—and it's not even that late! You haven't even gone out yet."

"Are you asking me to leave?"

"What? No! Jesus, Mako, what is up with you?"

But instead of answering, he asked, "So, why did they break up?"

"Goddammit—because they got into a fight and he got called away to the military!"

"They got into a fight _because _he got called away?"

"Jesus, what the—why does it even matter?" Korra snapped, snatching the dish towel from his hand and throwing it into the sink. She stormed into the living room a moment later, with Mako hot on her heels.

"I just want to know what's going on!" Mako proclaimed, following her into her bedroom. "This guy shows up out of nowhere—with his fancy uniform and badges—and you light up like a couple of frickin' fireworks—"

"_What?_"

"And what else am I supposed to think?"

"What _else?_" Korra demanded. "What are you thinking in the first place? Are you even thinking at _all_?"

"Think about it, Korra," Mako held up a finger, sternly locking his gaze to hers. "I've gone through it all in my head more times than I can count. No matter how I looked at it, I always ended up more confused than before. And then all this. _This _guy. I don't know anyone who could fit it better."

"Wait. What? Fit _what?_"

"You tell me that's it not Bolin—fine, I believe you," Mako continued, working himself up to a full rant. "All of our other juvenile classmates aren't worth your time, so I doubt it'd be one of them. For a while, I thought it might be someone from your scholarship, but then I learned that there _are _no other students in your scholarship! Then I figured that it might be someone from your undergrad days, and I even thought it might be someone you just happened to pass by occasionally on the street—"

"Mako!" Korra hissed, feeling a strange sense of dread well in her chest. "Mako, just shut up and tell me what the hell you're trying to say!"

"It's him!" Mako hissed, arm stretching toward the door. "This Iroh guy that dated your roommate—he's the guy you're after!"

For a split second, Korra stood stiff with shock.

"_What!_" she spat, torn between punching him in the stomach and doubling over, roaring with laughter. "You're out of your mind!"

"There is no other possibility!" Mako defended, sticking to his guns. "If there's another guy out there who would interest you, then I sure as hell don't know who it'd be, but this—_this has to be it_!"

"Mako," Korra said in a low voice, trying to stay rational. "Think about it—why would _I _be interested in Asami's _ex-boyfriend?_"

"I don't know!" Mako hissed, throwing his hands into the air as he grew more and more riled. "I'm sure you must have spent loads of time together—you probably started liking him while they were together, but didn't realize it until after they started getting closer—"

_Whoah, what? _"Mako," she warned. "That is _not—_"

"And out of respect for your friend, you kept your feelings to yourself so their relationship wouldn't be affected—"

"Oh my god, shut _up!_" Korra panicked, covering her ears.

"I was going out of my mind," Mako breathed heavily, chest rising and falling in desperate pants for air. "I was going crazy trying to think of who I'd missed—of going over the possibilities of this guy being someone that I didn't even know existed—"

"_What?_"

"But now it makes perfect sense," Mako said decisively, nodding solemnly, more to himself than to her. "I've never seen you look at anyone the way you just looked at this guy right now. You just seemed so... so damn _hopeful!_"

"Mako, you are completely blowing this out of proportion," Korra tried, feeling indignation well within her chest, overriding the overwhelming sense of confusion. "There are too many things wrong with what you just told me—out of _nowhere_—I can't even handle it all!"

Mako's jaw tightened, his lips thinning to a grim line. "Fine. I've got to go, anyway," he said brusquely, brushing past her to take his jacket from the back of the kitchen chair.

"Mako—where the hell are you going?" Korra demanded. "You can't just leave like this! I still don't have any fucking clue what's going on!"

Mako's hand paused on the door handle, but he didn't turn back around. Once he opened the door, he sent her one final glance. His expression had her heart twisting violently in her chest.

"Then maybe I'm not the most oblivious, after all," he said quietly, and left.


	62. Tahno was an (even bigger) idiot

******Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed. ******  
**Word Count: 386  
**New Summary: **What's more fun than five different love triangles? When half the people don't even realize that they're in them. — Tahnorra, grad school!AU; in which Tahno knows a lot about swamps, Korra becomes his intern, and general chaos ensues. Collection of gift!fics for my tumblr followers, all inspired with the prompt: "That one night..." Rated M, mostly for language and citrus.

**Author's Notes: **_7/18/13_. A power outage messed up my posting schedule! D: This stupid week-long heat wave has left my house without power every single day for the last six days. Bahhh.

**Beta'd** by **ebonyquill **& **Sophie**.

**Gifted To: **_anonymous_

* * *

**That one night**

_Tahno was an (even bigger) idiot._

* * *

**Friday  
**_March 22__nd  
_(1:06am)

It'd been a while since he'd really taken the time to think about bagels.

This could have just been the wine talking, because Tahno did not normally do this much thinking, and certainly not about bagels. _(He certainly never took the time to remember the one night that he and his intern were too exhausted to do anything—a night of storms and slaving over spreadsheets and being too tired to drag himself to his bed.) _He should have been thinking about having sex with the woman lying beside him, but the two of them were sleepy and sated, resting in relative peace under the covers.

_(She'd gotten hold of his only spare blanket, the one that usually sat in the far back of the lowest shelf—which she had found quickly and confiscated immediately.) _Asami had been unusually quiet tonight, but no less herself, and Tahno had genuinely enjoyed the evening. Especially since the rest of the day had been so fucking weird.

_(Everyone liked bagels, right? Except for Celiacs, maybe, but she wasn't one of them, and that wasn't really his responsibility to think about so early in the morning. She made him think too much. She made his head hurt.)_

And even now, hours later, he still felt off-balance—_the wine_, his mind whispered. _The wine, the wine, the wine. _He wondered what she was doing, back at her apartment all alone. (_If _she was alone.) He felt different and not. It'd been fairly easy to ignore earlier in the week. Now? He wasn't so sure.

_(He'd been the one who'd woken up first; two plain bagels, stored in the cool bottom shelf of the cabinets—toasted, buttered, and one made to-go. She'd left his apartment not long after, her complimentary bagel in one hand and a cup of black coffee in the other, her ponytail swishing behind her. An insult for the road. He'd thought to himself, _I could get used to something like this_, then buried it deep. He __told himself not to watch her car pull out of the driveway from the window. He did, anyway.)_

In his exhausted haze, Tahno ended the evening by turning his phone off altogether; if there was one thing he'd recently learned about himself, it was that alcohol and cell phones and _too much thinking _did not mix.


	63. of drunken phone calls (Part IV)

******Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed. ******  
**Word Count: 474  
**Author's Notes: **_7/18/13_. Last one for the night! :)

**Beta'd** by **ebonyquill **& **Sophie**.

**Gifted To: **_likeabirdinflight_

* * *

**That one night**

_of drunken phone calls. _(Part IV)

* * *

**Friday  
**_March 22__nd  
_(Too Fucking Early.)

That night—or rather, early Friday morning—just after 3AM, Korra received a phone call.

Korra reached a clumsy hand to the side table, traveling all the way across her big, empty bed, and snapped the phone awake with fumbling, aching fingers. She glanced to the Caller ID. _The hell...? _Rubbing at her eyes to make sure she wasn't dreaming, Korra briefly considered not answering.

"What," she snapped. Or at least, she would have—had she not yawned halfway through. It was so noisy on the other end of the line, with loud music and the sounds of distant voices all talking over one another. A bar, Korra decided. A crowded, noisy bar. She half-wondered if there was even someone there. _If he butt-dialed me this early in the morning, he can consider himself twice as dead come tomorrow evening._

"I'm hanging up now."

"No—no wait!" called a voice from the other side, desperate and panicked enough to send Korra jolting awake. She tore upwards in bed, sending the sheets pooling at her waist.

"Mako?" she asked, just to be sure.

"Korra," he poured into the receiver, sighing with relief. "I wasn't sure you'd be awake."

"I wasn't," Korra informed him. Her face crinkled with confusion as he uttered out an apology. He didn't _seem _to be all that drunk and he definitely wasn't slurring his words. _But then again, he is the Bolin-ator's brother... _"Is everything... all right?"

"Yes," he said immediately. "No. I don't think so." And then: "I'm a jerk."

"Um. Not that I don't appreciate the sentiment—because you are—but where is this coming from?" _This better not be his idea of an apology, if this has anything to do with how he left me tonight._ "And why couldn't it have waited until tomorrow morning? At regular functioning hours?"

"I have to tell you," he told her, and _there _was the drunkenness she'd been looking for. The heavy breathing, the just-slightly incoherent edge to the way he pronounced his consonants—both tell-tale signs of 'Mako's Pity-Party Drinking, Level II'—as labeled by Korra, Mako Habit Extraordinaire.

"You have to tell me that you're a jerk?" she repeated.

"No, no," he pressed on. "I have to tell you."

"Okay. Mako. I'm going to go back to sleep now, and in the morning you're going to drink a nice tall glass of—"

"No!" he cried, so loudly that Korra had to pull the phone away from her ear. She was unamused. "I promised—I have to tell you!"

"Where is Bolin?" she demanded. "Is he there with you?"

"No, no—other room."

"Well, go get him and tell him to take you back ho—"

"IreallylikeyouandIthinkweweremeantforeachother."

.

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"Go home, Mako.

You're drunk."


	64. that things couldn't get any worse

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed. **  
Word Count: **1,329  
**Author's Notes: **_7/19/13_. Off to the beach for the day! **We only have about 4 or 5 more chapters this _That One Night _story arc**... And then I'll be moving onto finishing up a chapter for _Personal Record _and the first installment of _storm clouds come rolling in_. (Sometimes I look at the weird shit I write about in _That One Night _and wonder how my brain is ever going to be able to go back to writing serious, dramatic, world-ending angst like the _break the ice _series, haha. WISH ME LUCK.)

Also, I just have to say: Thanks again for all the reviews! (It makes me really happy whenever anyone comments in particular about having laughed while reading because _That One Night _is essentially a reflection of my crazy-ass sense of humor, SO THANK YOU.)

**Beta'd** by **ebonyquill **& **Sophie**.

**Gifted To: **_anonymous_

* * *

**That one morning**

_when Korra thought things couldn't get any worse._

* * *

**Friday  
**_March 22nd  
_7:20am

"Goddammit," Korra muttered first thing in the morning, launching herself out of her bedroom. "Forget everything I said before!" she called into the kitchen. "Mako is driving me crazy!"

Asami popped her head around the kitchen corner, almost as if she'd been expecting this half-dressed, fully-rumpled creature to storm through the apartment so early in the morning. "You know that he actually called me a few times last night trying to get to you, right?" Asami told her, waving a spatula and flicking pancake batter onto the floor. "What _happened_?"

"Oh, god," Korra groaned, repeatedly banging her head into the fridge. "You didn't pick up, did you?"

"No," Asami shook her head fiercely, already moving to the side to put the hot water on for coffee. It was going to be _that _kind of day. "They all went straight to voicemail. I was concerned at first because he called so many times, but then once I listened to the messages, I was more confused than anything else. I listened to them in private, don't worry," she said hastily, watching as Korra smeared her sinking despair across the face of the refrigerator. "I have to admit though, Tahno's expression was hilarious to watch as all the messages came rolling in."

_Oh, god._

"What did Mako say?" she asked with dread. (She didn't dare ask what _he'd _said.)

"It was mostly unintelligible."

"Arggh!" Korra groaned, sinking to the floor. "What is _wrong _with me? Can't I have _any _normal human interactions?"

"Excuse me?"

"Asami, you paint my fingernails when I'm asleep because I won't let you do it while I'm awake—_you _don't count as normal either!"

Her roommate smirked, clutching onto her spatula deviously. "All right," she conceded, reaching a hand down to help Korra back to her feet. "Fair enough. Do you know what he was rambling on about? Or would you rather not talk about it? Or would you maybe rather like to hear some good news to distract you from your Mako-Man troubles?"

_Good news? _Korra jerked back into action. "Wait! Oh, my god. I almost forgot! I have good news, too! I've been waiting to tell you all night—at least until _he _decided to ruin everything by going all _'I like you!' _and '_I know you like someone else!' _on me!"

Asami gasped. "_That's _what he needed to tell you so badly? And I _knew _I was right!"

"_Ughhh!_" Korra threw her hands into the air as she plopped down into a seat. "Asami!"

"I knew it! You _do _like someone! And now I have an ally!"

"_No_! No, you do _not _have an ally. You are not allowed to talk to Mako about this at all, because it is not true!" _And because—apparently—it might also... break his heart? _

_The hell?_

"Korra, are you telling me that you _dare to _forbid me from reaching out to a potential crusader for your happiness?"

"Asami, you _can't_ talk to him about this! What part of he told me _he __likes me_, did you not understand? Don't you think that'd make things the least bit _more _awkward than they already are? What, just be like, '_Oh, hey_—Mako, I hear that you totally dig Korra and _I _totally love Korra, so let's band together to pry into all the sordid details of her nonexistent, secret love life and—'"

"Korra, of _course_ he likes you—where have you been?"

_Oh, brother_. Korra's nose wrinkled in frustration. "All right, all _right_! You know what? I'll just tell you more about all this later—just _stop!" _Korra let out a sigh of exasperation. Relief._ "_It's just... It's just that it's turned out to be a much bigger mess than it should be," she tried to reason. "But first—please, please, please, please, _please _let me tell you my good news first!"

"Oh my goodness," Asami blinked, surprised by her roommate's sudden exuberance. "All right."

"Okay," Korra breathed deeply, sitting upright in her chair. Asami expertly flipped a pancake at the stove. "You'll never guess who stopped by last night."

Asami was at a loss. Smiling helplessly at Korra's raw eagerness, she shook her head and asked, "Who?"

"_Iroh._"

Her face fell. "What?"

"Iroh is back—temporarily," Korra clarified, tripping over her words. "He stopped by last night when Mako was over to ask for you, but you weren't here. Asami—he's _back._You can finally talk to him and fix things—like you wanted!"

She turned away, quietly poking at a pancake with the spatula.

Korra frowned. "Asami?" No response. "Asami," Korra tried again, faltering. She ducked her head to try catch Asami's troubled gaze, but to no avail. "This is good news... right?"

Asami didn't respond immediately. "I don't know," she answered honestly. "Maybe if he'd shown up a month ago, but now..."

"Now?"

Asami sighed. "My good news was that I think I've finally made some headway with Tahno."

Abruptly, Korra's stomach churned. "What?" she breathed.

"I mean, nothing would change anytime soon, obviously, because of everything that's going on with his doctorate. But he'll be graduating soon... And I think... Korra, I think I _really _like him."

Korra wasn't hearing this. "But Iroh's back," she insisted, as her internal organs gave a violent twist. "And you liked him so much better before."

"Yes, but that was _before_," Asami tried to explain. A pancake fell off her spatula, spilling halfway onto the stove. Asami cleaned it up with a frustrated sigh, and said, "Iroh is looking for a long-term commitment—and that scares me, Korra. I'm around the age that my parents were when they got married. I don't _want _to end up like my parents."

"Asami—"

"You don't know that I won't," Asami reminded her, gentle but firm. "No one really does."

"He's not _proposing—_he just wants to talk!"

"He's a lot older, Korra... He's a good man, and he's going to want a family."

"So will you," Korra pointed out, a bit petulantly.

Asami huffed a breath of laughter, scooping a malformed pancake onto a plate. Korra had a feeling that she wasn't very hungry anymore, either. "Yes," she relented. "But not for a long, long time."

Korra's eyes burned. Stubbornly, she blinked, willing the feeling away. "So what does Tahno want, then?" she asked tightly.

"I didn't ask," Asami revealed, heaving another sigh. "It's such a busy time for him. There'd be no point in trying to rile things up when they're perfectly fine the way they are. It's just that... I can really _see _myself with him, you know? Maybe not the way that I might have with Iroh—"

"You mean the way your father would have wanted you to—"

"Hush," Asami said sternly, frowning. "He's not Iroh," she admitted with a twinge of sadness. "I don't think anyone will ever quite be like General Iroh II..." Korra's heart squeezed at her sad, tired laugh. "But he's here. And even for someone who lauds his decades-long unwillingness to commit, I know that Tahno will have me as long as I want him. He's going to stay with me, and I... I need that more than I need the perfect gentleman who thinks he loves me and wants a family in the not-so-distant future, but can't stay because he is busy saving the world."

"Asami," Korra sighed. "He cares about you. And it's not like he'll be gone forever."

But Asami's smile was just as heartbroken as it'd been the night he announced his assignment, so many months ago.

"No," she agreed through a whisper. "But I've never been very good at waiting."


	65. Tahno came over for dinner

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed. **  
Word Count: **3,153  
**Author's Notes: **_7/21/13_. Here's another one! I'm not sure I'll be able to post another chapter for another day or two... But we only have about four more chapters left of the whole arc! So things should be coming together quite soon. ;) (On a side note, I'm not entirely sure what to call this arc... Post-Sex Off Reconstruction Period. Tahno Spirals Down into (End-of-the-Year) Madness. The Attack of the Love Triangles. etc. :P) ANYWAY. Here you are.

**Beta'd** by **ebonyquill**, **Sophie**, & **Rhi**.

**Gifted To: **_anonymous!_

* * *

**That one night**

_Tahno came over for dinner._

* * *

**Friday  
**_March 22nd  
_8:39pm

He had to admit. It felt a little strange to be in the apartment now, without her here.

Tahno kept sending glances to the front door, almost as if he were expecting his intern to barge into the apartment at any moment. She'd greet him with an exasperated sigh, not so unlike her typical lab-afternoon salutation, and then she'd grumble about his general presence and no doubt make some unsightly comment about his hair. She'd stand in front of her fridge as he tried to focus on not burning their dinner, and she'd remind him about all of the favors he owed her—_Ever think I might be better at doing favors?_—even though they both knew that he didn't—wouldn't ever—need any.

He wondered if she would have the balls (the patience) to sit in on their little dinner-date charade, his and Asami's '_sex-is-strictly-off-the-table-and-yes-I-mean-that- both-figuratively-and-literally_' pseudo-date. Would she make fun of the way he stirred and sautéed the vegetables in the pan? Would she tire of the banter—_suggestive and sarcastic_—or would she carry it on? Would she only stay as long as it took her to mooch off some of the meal _he'd _bought, and then scurry off to the seclusion of her mysterious room, or would she have the audacity to stick around for dessert?

"Ahh, careful—smells like the peppers are almost done."

Tahno sent Asami a pointed look, letting her know that he'd clearly caught her very diplomatic way of warning him not to burn anything. She received the gesturewith a sly smile curled about her painted lips, and squinted playfully at his annoyance.

They continued about their tasks in comfortable silence, he manning the stove as she mastered the cutting board, while some unfamiliar song—slow and jazzy—played in the background. He liked it this way. He didn't have to worry about anyone chattering in his ear, or asking him dumb questions, or pointing out his (rare) mistake. This way, Tahno could wind down from the stress of his long (tedious, monotonous) day at the lab in peace; no lunatic friends with ridiculous ideas, no ridiculous intern with lunatic habits. Just a beautiful woman and a delicious meal, no strings attached.

He caught himself glancing toward the door again. Tahno stubbornly shifted his stance, angling himself toward the back of the kitchenette, except it didn't help because he now had a perfect view of a certain walk-in pantry. Immediately, he was reminded of a many number of things that he had desperately been trying to forget: an inconvenient attraction, a backfired plan, misleadings and misunderstandings. (And the failed expectation that _she_ would not be home.) He remembered the anger, the frustration, the impatience... the unexpected sight of long, naked legs emerging from another man's dress shirt. He remembered how the tables had turned, too many times to count, and he remembered the pleasure, too. The taste of victory (the stab of defeat), the resignation of impasse... Tahno forced himself not to glance back at the kitchen table, now set with wine, and tried not to think of the water filter sitting half-empty in the fridge. _Water and wine_, thought Tahno, who was not making very much sense at all.

"This is nice," Asami said softly, though the suddenness of her voice still jolted him into awareness. She laughed at him, yet she didn't make any comments about his skittishness, as she normally loved to. "And I suppose you're not such a bad cook for someone whose diet majorly consists of microwaveable dinners."

Tahno wished he'd never told her about that, then belatedly realized that his intern might have mentioned it, anyway. _Would she have?_ he wondered. Was that really something she would have thought to complain to her roommate about? If so, then that would have meant that they had, at least at one point, talked about him. (_Did _they talk about him? It was a troubling and inevitable thought, one that Tahno tried his best to avoid, though Asami tried her best to assure him that this wasn't the case. He'd decided it was best not to hope for the impossible.)

"_Hello_? Earth to Tahno?"

Tahno scowled. "I am a very capable cook, thank you," he defended snidely, though he could tell that the delay had lessened his credibility. "Just because I don't have _time _to make extravagant dinners doesn't mean I can't."

When he felt the warmth of a soft figure pressed ever-so-slightly against his back—when he felt the stir of painted fingernails dancing along his belt—he decided that Asami probably hadn't ever really much cared about what he actually cooked in the first place.

"I like to decide things for myself," she whispered, slipping two fingers beneath the fabric, conjuring a rather effective hook. Tahno's eyes slid to the salmon in the pan; _like a fish_, he thought absently, as his body responded to her touch. But that didn't fit. _Like a moth to a flame_, he tried again, but that didn't work either.

As the warmth of the kitchen slowly turned to heat, Tahno allowed the beginnings of a smirk—_confident, sensual, everything that he usually was_—twist his lips upward. His chin came to rest over his shoulder, to better admire the woman he'd come for, and he settled on the perfect reply; witty, suggestive, instigative—all the things he _was_. All the things Asami made him feel. And then.

_What the hell is—?_

"Do you hear that?" he asked, twisting in Asami's grasp toward the front door. His wooden spoon was still grasped between his long fingers, and Asami's were still hooked over the front of his pants.

"It sounds like our neighbors arguing down the hall," Asami waved off dismissively, pressing closer.

But Tahno wasn't so sure. "No, listen."

Sure enough, the voices were familiar.

"_Oh, no,_" Asami whispered beneath her breath, stiffening against him. "That sounds like... She must have forgotten you were coming over tonight!"

"What?" Tahno snapped, stepping back to look at her. _She can't mean—!_

"Korra," Asami cried, jumping back and away, rushing to the kitchen table to tear open a bottle and pour herself a generous glass of wine. Her fingers fumbled with the metallic casing around the bottle's rim. "That's her and Mako coming home!"

Tahno clenched the wooden spoon in his hand.

"_What!"_

"I invited her to join us, but I—"

"You—you _what?_"

"I didn't expect her to bring Mako along! _Unless_—no, no. What am I saying? She still hasn't agreed to go on a double date. There's no way she would have willingly—"

"_Double_—wait a minute, you're not _seriously _still fixated on actually trying to—"

"Quick! They're already at the top of the stairwell!" she hissed, finally tearing the protective foil free. She hastily tossed it to the trash then snatched the bottle opener from the counter. "It's too late to send her an emergency text. Just pretend you don't hear them."

But Tahno's mind was in overdrive. _No! __No__! No fucking way! _He _knew _that something was off when she'd left the lab the night before—_Monday, she'd said! _How the hell could she forget that he was coming over? She knew his schedule better than he did! _I am not going through a goddamn rematch!_

"She wouldn't have brought him over if she'd remembered that you were—_oh._.. Oh, no. It sounds like they got into another argument," Asami frowned, uncorking the bottle of wine with a hiss of sympathetic concern. Tahno's hiss was far less sympathetic; probably because he'd just burned himself on the stove.

"Argument?" he demanded hotly, glaring toward the door with anticipation. "Wait. _Another_?" he echoed oddly. (A tad gleefully.) "Wait a minute. Would this have anything to do with why that buffoon was calling you last night?"

"Oh, _please_, Tahno—like you've never made a drunken phone call before!"

Tahno scowled, stamping down a number of strange and uncomfortable feelings. "Not recently, I haven't."

"Quick—act natural!"

"What do you expect me to do—I'm fucking pan-frying salmon!"

"Just shut up and pretend that we're in the middle of a normal conversation!"

"We _were _in the middle of a conversation!" (_Sort of_.)

"One in which we're not arguing!"

"_They're_ arguing!"

"Oh my god, Tahno—last week was a sex battle, I am not having an argument battle, too!"

"_What the—? I wasn't about to suggest that we—"_

The keys jangled in the door, prompting Asami to quickly recork her bottle of wine out of pure nervous instinct, and Tahno to nearly scald himself by dropping the slab of fish into the oil with a dangerous splash. The voices were almost discernible now. The door opened.

"Hi!" Asami chirped, too loudly, calling meaningfully into the living room to alert Korra to their presence. Tahno gave her _what are you doing—don't bring them in here! _look that she immediately quelled with a dazzling smile, one that screamed, _be polite or I will stab you with the potato peeler!_

For once, Tahno held his tongue.

* * *

"Mako, If you would just fucking listen to me for one goddamn minute—"

"_You're_ not listening to _me_! I've been trying to tell you all day that I—"

"You told me _plenty_ last night! Believe me, if there's one thing I'd rather you _not _do right now, it's—"

"_Hi!_"

Instantly, Mako and Korra froze. Korra would have likened it to having a bolt of lightning shoot down her spine, had she not been so utterly overcome with fear. Mako's eyes had widened into saucers.

_Fuck!_ she mouthed.

_Fuck!_ he mouthed back, with equal enthusiasm.

They stood awkwardly in the living room, stiff with crippling indecision, just out of sight beyond the kitchen's archway. Korra's mouth opened, but her throat was thick with uncertainty. "_Hi!_" she croaked out, wincing when her voice cracked terribly over the single syllable. Mako looked sympathetic, but that only made her want to punch him even more.

Swelling with a sudden burst of adrenaline, Korra yanked on Mako's arm and roughly drove him forward. "_Sorry! Forgot! In a rush!_" she called, one hand already gripping her bedroom door handle tight, the other buried deep into Mako's old jacket.

Slamming the door wasn't exactly intentional, but it certainly sent the message.

* * *

"What the hell was that all about?" Tahno muttered, gloomily staring into his frying pan. He set down his large wooden spoon in favor a smaller one, which he used to toss about the sautéing peppers.

"It sounds like Mako's still interrogating her," Asami sighed, taking a generous sip of her wine. She huffed, shaking her head in dismay. "Good luck with _that_."

Tahno glanced to Asami at the table, brows tilting down with confusion. "Interrogating her about what?"

Asami waved him off, taking another moment to enjoy the richness of her wine, then set the glass down on the table. She came to stand beside him at the counter, sampling one of the bright cherry tomatoes from a bowl, but not before feeding him one as well. The flavors burst in his mouth; fresh, tangy juice... and the faintest hint of wine. _ Ah. Where were we? _He inhaled deeply, the door beyond the wall momentarily forgotten.

"Interesting choice you've made," Tahno commented, slipping his tongue over the ridge of his lips. He leaned closer, brushing his nose against hers. "What year is that?"

"I can't recall," Asami smiled softly, stepping closer. "Would you like another taste?"

As a matter of fact, he did.

* * *

"Goddammit," Korra hissed, raking her fingers though her hair. She paced the length of the bedroom, whilst Mako stood against the closed door, trying to stay out of the way. _Too fucking late! _"We can't talk about this here. We've gotta leave."

"But we just drove here."

"I know!" she snapped, then took a deep breath to calm herself. "But I can't stay here and talk to you about this while _they're _in the other room making salmon!"

"You could smell that?"

"Oh, for the love of—dammit, Mako!" Korra groaned, falling back onto her bed with a defeated sigh. Mako looked unsure as to whether it was safe to follow suit, or if he was supposed to move farther away. Uncertainly, he stepped closer, though he looked like he regretted the decision immediately. "Are you _kidding_ me?" she demanded.

"Look," he placated, though he still sounded incredibly nervous. And determined. It was a disconcerting, dangerous combination—especially where Mako was concerned. Especially _when _Mako was concerned.

"Mako—"

"No, look! I'm sorry—I just... I wasn't expecting to just come out and say what I said last night. I mean, I _was_—but not like—at least not the _way _I said it—"

"I would certainly _hope _not."

"But I'm glad that I did," Mako sat down on the bed beside her, but was wise not to sit too close. "I was going to say it sooner or later, and I needed to get it out—especially after that Iroh dude showed up."

"Do _not _even get me started on that. You're already in big enough trouble as it is, city boy."

Mako huffed, growing frustrated himself.

"Well, _now _what the fuck are we suppose to do?"

* * *

"It'd just be so much easier if she'd go back to liking Mako again."

"What?"

"Oh, come on—you knew that they were just friends with benefits," Asami rolled her eyes, marveling at Tahno's gaping mouth. She tapped his chin twice with a pointed finger, then strolled back to the table and the wine. He absently ran a knuckle along his jaw, not having realized that it'd dropped. He shifted uncomfortably at the stove.

"What?" he repeated, because surely, he must have heard her wrong.

But Asami merely huffed, swirling the wine in her glass. "You probably knew about it even before I did," she claimed, despite the fact that Tahno still had no idea what she talking about. Seeing his blank stare, she finally clarified, "She was into Mako a while ago, but lost interest for some reason or other."

_Lost... interest? _Tahno recalled a particular conversation in a particular pantry. He ignored the curling in his gut.

(_And he makes me laugh_.)

"You call _that_ losing interest?" Tahno snapped, stabbing his wooden spoon toward the door beyond with a scoff of disgust. Honestly, if that were truly the case, then Tahno would have liked to see what she did when she _was_ interested in someone.

"Romantic interest, yes; sexual interest is a different matter entirely. She'd liked him since the very beginning of the school year, but then... I don't know, something shifted. She gave up on him, or something. I guess it wasn't until after she'd gotten over him that they actually started hooking up. Now it's just homework help and casual sex." Tahno scowled. This was not exactly his conversation topic of choice. But as her words settled, Tahno began to let some of his bitterness fade to the back... letting old memories and new revelations begin to twist their way in.

_Lost interest for some reason or other_, Asami had said; well, Tahno knew precisely what that reason had been.

_It was you_, he thought, staring at the beautiful woman pouring him another glass of wine. Or rather, it'd been Mako's unrequited interest in her—_the friend, the roommate, the confidante_—that had driven Korra away from him. Tahno thought of the night he'd first met Asami Sato, that night at the bar when he'd first glimpsed at the other mismatched pieces of his intern's life, and how he'd loved seeing her squirm.

Now, he watched Asami carefully, his hands clutching tightly to the ridge of the countertop behind him as his spoon dripped sauce onto the floor. _Does she not realize?_ he wondered. _Is that possible? After all this time, could she not realize that Mako was originally... after __her__? _But some things still didn't make sense. If Korra really was over her classmate, as her roommate claimed—because her classmate had shown interest in her _roommate, _which her roommate apparently did not yet realize—then how the hell had hisintern come to decide that the best way to waste her time was by messing around with _him_, the manchild she no longer actually liked? And what was this kid trying to pull—hooking up with his intern one night and drunk-dialing Sato the next? And then traipsing around the apartment again, following around his intern like a lost puppy. If there was anything Tahno had gained from this stupid conversation, it was the understanding that Korra had _better _not actually like this Mako jerk, or else—

He paused.

(_Or else... What?_)

"Anyway, it's unfortunate because Mako's clearly grown more attached to Korra than she is to him, and now he and I are in the same boat."

Tahno's eyes narrowed skeptically. Slowly, he said, "I don't follow."

"Oh. _Oh!_ No, not like that—that is, not to say that _you and I_ are—I just merely meant that both Mako and I are trying to get the bottom of this new interest that she has. But Korra is Korra, and she can be as stubborn as an ox when it comes to holding things in."

His head spun. "New... _what_?" he asked, still not understanding.

Asami looked at him then, with a renewed brightness in her eyes. "Actually... maybe _you_ might be able to help us."

Tahno scoffed, turning his back on her so that he could continue working at the stove. This damn salmon was about to get charred. "Not likely."

Asami sighed, but it sounded more like a laugh. "I suppose not. I mean, she spends most of the day in the lab with nobody else but you... and occasionally Tenzin, I guess. If anyone's going to help identify this new man that Korra's got the hots for, it's probably not going to be you."

Tahno froze.

Slowly, he turned back to face her.

"What did you say?" he asked.

But before Asami had a chance to answer, Korra and Mako suddenly appeared in the archway, dressed in red—_hoodie, scarf, and cheeks_—ready to go. The tension surrounding them was all levels of awkward and rushed, but Korra had a huge smile spread across her face, and Mako looked just slightly less surly than usual. "All right—we're heading out! Be back in a few!" she called, quickly taking Mako by the wrist and dragging him to the side, back toward the front door. "Don't wait up! Don't have too much fun while we're gone! Sorry again! See you later! But don't wait up! Bye!"

"Nice seeing you, Asami!" Mako called from beyond the wall, before grumbling something under his breath. Something that sounded suspiciously like, "_Ow—what was that for?_"

* * *

Tahno was still staring at the empty archway long after Korra and Mako had gone. From the table, Asami took another sip of her wine, looked up at him with an amused smile and asked, "So? What do you think?"

But Tahno was still staring toward the door, barely blinking, while the apartment filled with the smell of burning peppers.


	66. Korra and Mako went for a drive

******{**** EVENLY _ MATCHED ; **An Upcoming Tahno/Korra Fic & Art Exchange } **_The Coldest of Nights_** ; _Summer - Autumn 2013_  
A _Legend of Korra _fan community with writing & art contests, challenges, and prizes specifically for the Tahno/Korra pairing. We are currently celebrating our very first fic & art exchange! **Sign-ups are open until July 31st, 2013. **You can find more information about the (tumblr & Livejournal) community, including links to the sign-ups page, on my FFNET profile. I hope to see many of you participate! :)

* * *

******Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed. ******  
Word Count:** 3,132  
**Author's Note: **_7/26/13_. Okay. Just four-and-a-half more chapters left in this arc! I'm actually getting really tired of writing for this fic. D: I MISS _PERSONAL RECORD _and _BREAK THE ICE_. Sooon. Soon enoughhh.

**Beta'd **by **ebonyquill** & **Rhi.**

* * *

**That one night**

_Korra and Mako went for a drive._

* * *

**Friday  
**_March 22nd  
_9:07pm

_What a fucking day._

The radio was on, but neither she nor Mako were listening. The car's heat was turned up nice and high, but the unusually icy chill radiating off Korra's frame was enough to ruin the effect. The silence of the last few minutes hadn't exactly been comfortable, but she knew Mako well enough to guess that he could survive a few spare minutes of cold shoulder while she recovered... and he knew well enough to give her the space she (definitely) needed.

"Dammit," she whispered into the warm air, slapping the steering wheel with a heavy palm. She'd been stuck at this red light for what felt like forever, but that seemed to be the least of her worries. "How did this happen?"

Mako frowned into the dark. After a beat, he grudgingly admitted, "I don't know what you mean."

"I mean..." Korra gave a long-suffering sigh. " I don't think I actually know what I mean."

"Look," Mako blurted suddenly. "It wasn't my intention to screw up the arrangement or anything—"

"But you did," Korra insisted, as some of her stamped-down irritation creeped back up. "You might not have meant to, and you might not have even thought about it at all, but you did."

There was a long, tense moment before Mako responded. "It's not... _totally_ screwed up. Is it?"

How was she supposed to answer that? She'd felt pretty damn certain about where she'd stood before Mako made any ridiculous declarations, which was essentially that she hadn't liked him even though she _wanted_ to... But she enjoyed what they had. She _liked_ what they had. So what would it mean if she agreed to keep up their casual arrangement even after he'd expressed actual (mostly-legitimate) feelings for her? What would that say about the kind of person she was?

(How bad would it be if she were to admit to herself just how badly she still didn't want to stop?)

"I think the question is _why_ did you bother messing with it at all?" she asked accusingly. "I don't get what was so wrong with the way we had things before."

"Nothing was wrong with the way things were," Mako countered, as if surprised by her claim.

"Then why the hell would you open your big, damn mouth?"

"Because we just talked about this the other day in the library—like three days ago! You made me promise to tell you if something had changed, and it had."

"I meant if you were pissed off at me or had issues or something—not that you suddenly decided you actually liked me!" Korra snapped.

"Oh, right," Mako scoffed, burning with sarcasm. "Because I was supposed to be able to make that distinction."

"I thought it was pretty clearly implied!" Korra hissed, though she was starting to feel more than a little ridiculous.

"Are you saying you'd rather somebody _not_ tell another person when they have feelings for them?" he asked boldly, ignoring her flimsy tirade. Korra promptly buried a number of strange and uncomfortable feelings.

"You don't have feelings for me, Mako," she told him, shocking even herself at the taste of bitterness in her mouth. "I'm just the first girl who would sleep with you once you realized that you weren't going to get your hands on Asami."

Mako was taken aback. "Is that what you think?" he whispered, shifting farther back in the seat to look at her.

His concern only made her angrier. "Face it, Mako. You're deluding yourself into thinking that you feel a lot closer to me than you really do. We're friends. We're _awesome_ at being friends, and you're super hot, and I haven't had this much fun with anyone... Ever. Don't ruin this by pretending there's something there, because there isn't."

But this just made _him_ angrier. "You don't think it's possible for me to like you just because of who you are?" he demanded.

She huffed. "Please, Mako. You didn't give that much of a damn before. Why would it be any different now?"

"Oh, because you're so good at reading people, right?" Korra glared at him but he held his ground. "How would you know how much of a damn I gave? You think I didn't because we didn't talk? Korra, in case you haven't noticed—there's a _reason_ I try not to talk."

"Believe me. I've noticed."

His expression tightened, but his determination didn't waver. "Fine," he said softly, eyes blazing. "You wanna know what's so different?"

Her heart skipped in spite of itself. _Yes._

"Not particularly."

"It's different because _you_ are different. _We_ are different," he emphasized.

"Mako, you literally just said nothing."

"Korra, did you ever stop to think for one second that I didn't openly consider you as more than a friend because _you_ never gave me the impression that you were interested?"

"So this is _my_ fault?"

"What the—this isn't anybody's fault!" Mako snapped, voice rising—along with his octave. Korra was vindictively pleased that he seemed to be at his wit's end—_which isn't very far to begin with_, she thought meanly, then felt bad about it immediately afterward. "Do you have any idea how fucking terrifying you are?"

"Look, pal—I... _what?_"

"The first time I met you, when you showed up with Bolin to class, and I barely gave you a second glance—"

"Oh, gee. Thanks, asshole."

"—_because_ I was so focused on maintaining my own _scholarship_, to the point where I couldn't even think about anything else—you just came up and introduced yourself point-blank, like you didn't give a damn about what anybody thought about you, but wanted the whole world to know who you were, anyway."

"So?" she snapped defensively, feeling self-conscious. "What's wrong with that?"

"Korra," Mako leaned forward slightly. His voice took on a strange tone, like almost that of a plea. "From the very first moment I met you—you have _always_ just come out and said what you wanted."

Korra blinked, letting that sink in. "Are you... Are you trying to tell me that you didn't make a move because you thought that... that _I_ wasn't interested?"

Mako shifted uncomfortably under her painfully direct gaze. "Well, it's just that—how was I supposed to know that you would have been receptive to this sort of thing?"

"You could have _asked!_"

"Yeah, and gotten slugged for it!"

_Oh, yeah—like I haven't heard that one before_. But there was something else she was dying to know. "So, what? It wasn't worth the risk?"

"Only because I didn't think I had an actual chance of gaining anything!" he defended hotly. "Save for a black eye, maybe."

"All right!" she hissed, cutting off any more on that line of thought. "Enough with the damn punching commentary already, I get it. What I _don't_ get is how—in the fucking _world—_did you convince yourself that I wasn't into you that whole time?"

"I just—well, I... I don't know if you really want to hear abou—"

"Just spit it out, dammit!"

"God! _Fine_—I fucking thought you liked Bolin, okay!"

A beat passed.

Her eyes narrowed.

"Explain."

"Well, I— well, for example... you've never exactly been shy, but you seemed sort of..."

"Sort of _what_?"

"Reserved? Reserved," he decided, nodding a little. "But only around me. Except when the two of us screwed up together, because then you were always so quick to get on both of our cases as soon as we—"

"In case you haven't noticed, Mako—you happen mess up a _lot,"_ she interrupted snidely, purely for the childish sake of throwing him off. Then maybe, hopefully, he would feel just as out of sorts as she did. "And pointing out someone's stupidity is nowhere _near_ the same level as having the balls to admit to somebody that you're fucking into them!" she spat, then added, "In _spite_ of that stupidity!"

"Well, what about how you always seemed more likely to strike up a conversation with Bolin than you were with me?"

"Because he actually _responded!_ And did it ever occur to you that maybe—just _maybe—_I actually _could_ feel shy on occasion? _Especially around stupid assholes who I stupidly thought I liked!_"

"Well, it's not like we'd ever actually spent any time together without Bolin around, if you remember! And I don't care _what_ you say about being shy—for four whole months? I used to watch you two together all the time—coming over to play video games late at night just to piss me off, going off to clubs to go dancing without me—"

"Mako, you _hate_ dancing!"

"How do you know?" he demanded, shocking Korra into silence. "Did you ever ask? No—you just automatically assumed, over and over again. Because Bolin was always your first choice."

Something inside Korra's chest squeezed painfully. "That is _not—_"

"Face it, Korra. You were always so much more comfortable messing around with Bolin. Whether it was in class or at the bars, you were _always_ with Bolin. What was I supposed to think?"

"Oh my god, Mako—it's _Bolin!_" she cried, as if that could somehow explain everything. "That's what we _do!" Or, at least—what we did,_ she privately corrected, making herself feel ten times more miserable.

"Well—I can mess around too, you know!"

_Oh, please—_

"Mako, for chrissake—we _have_ been messing around! And quite frankly, in my opinion, it is a much better version of the _messing around_ than what Bolin and I did with our leftover chemicals!"

"You know what I mean!"

"For some fucking incredible reason—I think I actually do!" Korra practically shouted, coming to a harsh and jolting stop at another godforsaken red light. "Which makes you an even bigger idiot than I ever thought possible. Are you _actually_ telling me that you've liked me this whole time? And you've just been too cowardly to say anything because you were waiting for _me_ to bite the bullet and be the one to make the first move?"

"_What_—_!_ No! I didn't like you before!"

"Oh. Fucking great. Glad we cleared that up."

"No, I—dammit, Korra!" he shouted back, pounding his fist into the seat. Korra glared at him flatly, unimpressed. (One of the cars behind Korra honked its horn to send her moving along under the green light; Korra thoughtfully gave him the middle finger through her rear window. Mako continued on, already too frazzled to be bothered by the exchange.) "I saw you as just a friend because I'd thought that you'd made it clear that friends was all we were ever gonna _be_, and then because I got my head wrapped up in Asami and I ended up putting her on this pedestal—"

"Which, as it sounds, is sort of like what you're trying to do right now with _me_."

"What the hell! I am not!"

"Yes, you are—you finally find a friend that you can talk to about your problems and who will help you with your studies and—oh, look, _how convenient!_—you can sleep with her in between study breaks! Of _course_ you're going to end up thinking that you actually like this chick, you asshat!"

"Have you forgotten that this chick is actually _you_?"

"The point is that you have to remember that _you_ originally suggested this friends with benefits arrangement and that _we_ agreed to keep it casual! You're attractive, I'm attractive; I can see where you'd get confused."

"I am _not—_"

"_Dammit, Mako_—less than two months ago you were still in love with Asami!" she finally snapped, voice cracking in the dry heat of the car. "Your feelings for me aren't real because you can hardly recognize them yourself! You're so in love with the idea of taking care of somebody that you'll slap them onto anyone—onto the fucking closest body nearby!"

The words stretched out into the stillness of the car, with only the soft hum of the engine filling the space between Korra's ears. She couldn't feel the relief of the breaths entering her body, but the steady rising and falling of her laboring chest was enough to tell her what the rest of her brain couldn't. Slowly, her fingers eased up on the steering wheel.

It wasn't until Korra pulled onto the engineering brothers' street that she chanced a look in Mako's direction. He was leaning back against the seat, elbow resting against the door, temple against the window. Chin in hand. Brow furrowed low. His eyes were open, but the world whizzing by was dark.

He didn't seem to be looking at anything in particular.

With an awful pang and a dreadful sigh, Korra carefully pulled over and put the car in park. A weird, detached, and lonely part of her mind longed for a more familiar set of gears resting below her hand—the freedom of _neutral_, the control of _first, second, third_—but reminded herself that _standard_ wasn't practical for a city. Nothing about her life seemed very standard anymore.

Mako glanced up at the nearby sidewalk, his brow creasing even deeper in confusion. With great care in his tone, Mako tentatively asked, "Do you want me to walk the rest of the way?"

_Dammit._ That awful squeezing wasn't exactly going away. "No," Korra said softly, turning the car off completely. "Of course not." But she didn't really know what she wanted to say, either.

"Look," Mako said carefully, for what must have been the hundredth time that night. "I'm sorry if I... I'm sorry for everything, actually. I know I'm not exactly the smartest guy when it comes to any of this stuff, and I know I can be kind of a jerk. Well. A real jerk. A lot of the time, actually—but I don't mean to be. In fact, I really try not to be, which is why I spend most of the time trying to avoid talking altogether. Dammit," he hissed, running a hand over his face. "This isn't helping." But Korra continued to listen in patient silence, ignoring all of her instinctive urges to burst in with a few words of her own; she needed to give him time to get his thoughts in order. She knew this.

"You think you're the only one who sucks at figuring this stuff out?" he asked quietly, angling his head toward her, but keeping his eyes on the dashboard. "I get that I was... I really _was_ oblivious before, and maybe... I shouldn't have reacted as strongly as I did to Iroh—wait, hear me out," he insisted, sensing Korra's rising alarm. "I shouldn't have overreacted to Asami's ex showing up. I should have told you how I felt about you earlier, before I let it take control of me and it blew up in my face. I should have asked you out on a proper date to begin with, seven months ago."

"Mako—"

"Ah," he softly replied, a tiny self-deprecating laugh. "I see."

Korra's brow tilted with confusion. "See what?"

But his head merely shook, soft and slow. "I know that tone," was all he said.

Thoughtfully, she bit her lip. Then Korra took a deep, bracing breath and—

—_I really hope I don't regret this._

"Mako," she tried again, easing her tone into something less apologetic, into something more purposeful. She strengthened her voice and said, "I'll tell you what. How about... how about you and I try... you know."

Tentatively, Mako glanced her way; his expression, normally so stony, held everything that she felt swimming inside her own chest. Skepticism. Confusion. Hope. "Try... what?"

Korra tried not to gulp. "A date," she offered, letting her fingers hang loosely off the steering wheel, just below the first knuckles. "A real one."

She could practically feel his confusion bearing down on her chest like a physical weight. A long moment passed. "Really?"

"Just one," Korra promised in a rush of breath, already half-regretting this decision. "A trial-run. Sort of."

"You're serious?"

She looked at him then, surprised by the awe she heard in his tone. For a brief moment, the intensity of his eyes rendered her speechless. "Yeah," she finally agreed, mouth dry. She instinctively moved to wet her lips, but then decided against it, and instead ended up puckering them up into a funny, squinting expression that even she knew must have looked ridiculous. _Holy shit_, she thought, as a shot of realization spiked down her spine. _Did I just agree to go on an actual date with Mako?_ Her lips twitched involuntarily and for an insane moment, Korra was certain she was going to laugh from sheer nerves.

Which was right about the time she realized that Mako's smirk was twitching, too.

"You're serious," he repeated, but long gone was the question. Instead, Korra only heard the smile. The realization seeping in. The pure instantaneousness of the effect her words had on him sent a warmth spreading through her chest.

"Yeah," she too, repeated. This time, she didn't fight the widening of her lips, or the tongue that peeked out to wet them. "Yeah, I am," she whispered, as if she were still in awe of it herself. "Let's go on a date."

Halfway through her smile, Mako swiftly leaned forward and pressed a heated kiss to her lips, gentle and firm. But by the time her eyes had fluttered closed, he'd already pulled back, just far enough away to look at her. He was smiling, but whatever was left of his dignity must have hoped for a smirk, because it came out lopsided and crooked. It fit him in a way that Korra never thought possible, especially beneath the surprising splash of color in his cheeks. "When?" he breathed, leaning in once more.

Quietly, Korra's smile broke free. "Tomorrow night?" she whispered. "Dinner, maybe?"

Mako looked greatly amused. "I doubt there's any option you could suggest that would make me resist you," he told her through his smirk. "You could even ask me to go to one of those crazy clubs you always go to with Bolin, and I wouldn't be able to say no."

Korra's face twisted slightly, her lips quirking higher. "But you said that I was wrong for assuming that you didn't like to da—"

Mako's second kiss of the night was twice as swift as the first, and lasted much, much longer.

* * *

He'd been wrong about a lot of things that evening and he'd probably still be wrong about a few (million) other things further down the line. That wasn't really so important, she decided, as long they could work through it. _He's still not completely off the hook, obviously... _But he wasn't completely wrong about_ everything,_ either.

Korra smirked, flexing her sore knuckles.

* * *

That night, Mako's face received a bit more color than just red; she knew he wasn't the biggest fan of blue, but hey. At least his eye wasn't _black._

(Though it probably would be by morning.)


	67. things were not all that they seemed

**{ EVENLY _ MATCHED ; **An Upcoming Tahno/Korra Fic & Art Exchange } **_The Coldest of Nights_** ; _Summer - Autumn 2013_  
A _Legend of Korra _fan community with writing & art contests, challenges, and prizes specifically for the Tahno/Korra pairing. We are currently celebrating our very first fic & art exchange! **Sign-ups are open until July 31st, 2013. **You can find more information about the (tumblr & Livejournal) community, including links to the sign-ups page, on my FFNET profile. I hope to see many of you participate! :)

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.  
**Word Count:** 195  
**Author's Note: **_7/26/13_.

**Beta'd **by **ebonyquill** & **Rhi.**

* * *

**That one night**

_things were not all that they seemed._

* * *

And so it was agreed. They would go to dinner the following night and try out their dynamics on a true, real-life date. They were willing to try, the both of them. Korra could tell when she pulled into his driveway that he was tempted to invite her up, but given the shadows moving beyond the window curtains, he wisely did not. To be honest, Korra wasn't even sure what her answer would have been. She had too much to sort out in her mind.

"Hey. Before I leave... can I ask you another question?"

_Do you have to? Things are actually going well for once._ She licked her lips and gently cleared her throat. "God," she sighed a laugh. "What is it?" she cautiously asked, slowly dragging a knuckle along her tired brow. It was surprising, just how much she suddenly found herself looking forward to tomorrow night, and she was intrigued by how much she wanted to go home and rest and play out the night all over again in her head.

She felt Mako's fingers gently take hold of her hoodie's sleeve, just below her elbow.

"What happened to your red one?"


	68. Korra studied (Part II)

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.  
**Word Count: **1,138  
**Author's Note: **_8/4/13_. Back on the _That One Night _track! I've been super productive lately. Between a massive _Personal Record _chapter, plans to release the first chapter of _storm clouds come rolling in _much sooner than anticipated, registering for NaNoWriMo 2013, and even a bit of dabbling in _Existence_, this weekend has been all about writing. :) My (not-so-realistic) goal is to finish up as many of my WIPs as I can before NaNoWriMo, so I'm doing all that I can! I'm also not going to be doing much writing around the 14th because of my birthday, soooooo we she shall see. :)

**Beta'd **by **ebonyquill** & **Rhi.**

* * *

**That one night**  
_Korra studied._ (Part II)

* * *

It seemed that Korra had overlooked one very important detail.

She'd only made it about three blocks from Mako's apartment before it occurred to her that her plan of going home was virtually impossible, and that it had everything to do with a _fucking fillet of frying salmon_.

There was no way she was going back home while Tahno was there—no matter how tired she was, or how badly she longed for the comfort of her warm bed—because a (slightly) larger part of her also desperately wanted to do the right thing. To let them have space. _Privacy_, her mind offered half-heartedly, a blank and exhausted echo of some earlier vow to be respectful (_to make herself scarce_) that apparently had not taken very long (_or more than a few kisses_) to forget all about. It was no surprise, though—her head was a downright mess.

Which was further evidenced by the fleeting moment of insanity that almost overtook her better senses; Korra had absolutely no intention of returning to her apartment that night, and she briefly considered _not _texting Asami about it. (Let _her _guess whether or not to wait up for once. Make sure she actually kept true to her promise, out of pure uncertainty.) But then Korra caught herself and wondered, _just when exactly did I become so bitter?_

Korra absently flipped the cell phone in her hand, pretending to deliberate—but really, the decision was already made. With a few quick taps of the keys, Korra officially sealed off that door for the rest of the night.

* * *

_Well. Asami thinks I'm spending the night at Mako's..._

_What the hell do I do now?_

* * *

"I can't believe I'm actually doing this," she muttered to herself.

There she was, chilling on the couch in the familiar office of a particular biology laboratory, with her knees bent and her feet tucked under the old cushions. A warm, navy blue hoodie rested over her lap as a makeshift blanket, which cradled a worn-in textbook that was proving to be more of a doodling canvas than a resource. With a sigh, Korra let her pen fall to the crease of the densely-packed pages and let her head fall back against the well-worn fabric of the couch. She could barely keep her eyes open, let alone make any more sense of the information painted across the diagrams. _So much for studying tonight_.

Though in actuality, Korra _had_ spent a good portion of her time in the lab being productive and trying to play the good student. The very important meeting with her scholarship advisors, which had taken up most of her day, had only reminded her of just how tight her schedule could—_was about to—_become; soon enough, passing final exams would be the least of her concerns. Her introduction ceremony, during which she would _finally_ be introduced to the public as the Avatar recipient, would be happening in just a few short weeks. A large charity banquet was to be held just after the completion of her first year exams, which meant that she was going to have to make sure she passed these courses in the first place… _With flying colors; big fat splatters of __blue, green, red, and yellow._

_Awesome, _Korra thought dryly.

So, in a state that was no doubt two parts delirium and at least one part _I-am-simply-too-tired-to-give-a-damn_, Korra had found herself parking in an unobtrusive spot outside the campus' oldest science building and using Tenzin's old, spare key to slip in through the back door. She'd flipped on the cheap desk lamp from Tahno's cluttered desk, taken up her regular spot on the couch, and started to read. That had been nearly three hours ago.

Korra knew that Tahno had all-day plans with Asami the next day—_it'd be a good break for him from all the craziness of his deadlines_, Asami had said—so he probably _was_ going to spend the night at her apartment, after all. Even though Asami had promised her that he wouldn't. _Whatever_, Korra told herself. It didn't really matter, anyway. _And maybe_… Korra's stubbornness almost wouldn't let her finish the thought.

(Maybe she _was_ being a little unreasonable about the whole Tahno-staying-overnight thing, after all.)

Frowning, Korra remembered her roommate's distress from the day before, and how desperate Asami had seemed to reach a compromise that would appease Korra's needs _and_ keep the peace. It was really stressing Asami out to see Korra so upset over their guest disagreements, and it really wasn't fair to Asami because it wasn't like she could know _why,_ exactly, it bothered Korra so much to see them... _What? Together?_

_Maybe it's time to just… suck it up._

After all, she'd never given Asami _this_ much trouble over a guy before—and that girl had dated far worse characters than Tahno. (_Hadn't she?_) Besides, she and Tahno were actually on really good terms now, weren't they? Aside from the really strange wrestling match she'd had with him the day before. _But he deserved that_. Okay, and maybe apart from how she'd openly flirted with his friends right in front of him, too... _But they started it! Ugh... Dammit._ She was terrible at this.

_That's it_, Korra decided, firmly placing her fist into a crumpled sheet of Chapter 17. From there on out, her selfishness would take a holiday; Korra resolved, then and there, to think of Asami—_considerate, loyal, perceptive, oblivious Asami_—first.

No matter what.

And even if Korra believed that Asami and Iroh deserved each other—truly, in her heart—she also knew that Asami would continue to do what Asami did best; she would find her own way, whether that included a romantic someone or not. But she wanted Asami to at least have the chance. (A _choice._) Getting Iroh and Asami the opportunity to see each other again was undeniably Korra's top priority—_as soon as the weekend ends_, she sighed, looking down at her heavy book—and then Asami could make her choice of romantic somebodies and… Korra would accept it. Either way.

And then Tahno could do whatever the hell he wanted, just as long as he didn't end up breaking her roommate's heart. (Would he take it personally, she wondered, if she broke his jaw in a flight of vengeance?) They knew each other well enough by now for that, right? _He should expect it, if we're really the friends that I think we are_. Korra let that thought turn over in her mind once more. _Funny._ She could call him a friend.

_And that's right where he'll stay_, she told herself, leaning her weight into the stiff comfort of the couch cushion. _That's where he belongs. In the friend box. Permanently. And Mako... well._ She would give him a shot. (A chance.)

After all... She _had_ liked him once. Before.

Maybe she really could like him again.


	69. Tahno went home alone

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.  
**Word Count:** 1,393  
**Author's Notes: **_8/4/13_. Quick reminder! I, personally, happen to appreciate all of the LOK characters. However, this story is written from the perspectives of Tahno and Korra... and let's just say that the three of us don't always see eye-to-eye. :P

**Musical Inspiration: **"Masterpiece Theatre 3" by Marianas Trench, yes.

**Beta'd **by **ebonyquill** & **Rhi.**

* * *

**That one night**  
_Tahno went home alone._

* * *

**Saturday  
**_March 23rd_  
12:42am

As it turned out, Asami had been planning to make good on her no-sex promise all along.

Tahno couldn't even really say that he put up much of a fight as he was ushered out the door sometime around midnight, the taste of Sato still on his lips. He'd stumbled to the car, barely tipsy on wine, and driven three blocks just to merely sit in the warmth of his car.

And think.

* * *

At some point in the last few weeks, without his ever knowing, his intern had noticed someone.

_Acquired a new... interest_, Tahno thought to himself, turning the word over and over in his mind. It's not as if he had any right to be surprised; Tahno knew that she obviously had a life outside of his little lab—a fact that had been made clear time and time again, as she gradually began to take over more and more of _his._ And he supposed that he had no real reason to think that it'd be improbable for her to actually be interested in anyone—considering her recent _liaisons_—though Tahno acknowledged that, despite what he may have argued against Asami's claim, perhaps he hadn't considered truly considered the oaf an... _interest._ Not a real one, anyway.

Which left him right here, in this moment:

In the car, too many streets away from his own home to be considered appropriate given the lateness of the hour, and his head spinning with the idea that somewhere out there was another guy that his intern was seeing. (Correction: someone that she was _interested_ in.) Tahno ran a hand over his face, then rolled down the window to get a bite of fresh air. _How often does she see him?_ he wondered. Where had they met? Was this mystery guy aware of this interest—and did he share it? Was he as much of a douchebag as Mako? (Would _he _have overnight visitation rights?) Tahno's cheek was already stinging by the time he realized that he'd slapped himself across the face and, for one miraculous moment, recognized that perhaps he wasn't quite as sober as he'd thought.

Asami had claimed that _he'd _have been privy to this sort of information before even she would, which didn't make any sense. So what if he saw her five days a week for an average of about two-and-a-half hours, half of which was spent in (fake) working silence? That didn't mean he _knew_ her. So what if he remembered all the names of her friends (or was sleeping with one of them), or knew how and with whom she spent (and wasted) her free time? He also knew what colors she liked and how she drank her coffee, but that didn't _mean _anything. (And the way Asami had written him off as useless almost immediately after proffering their ridiculous, invasive, investigative alliance—_it's probably not going to be you_—what the hell was _that_ supposed to mean?) He wasn't completely dense, _thank you very much_, and he was honestly a little insulted by how quickly Sato had changed her mind about admitting him into their little gossip trail. _Not that it matters_, he thought quickly, because he wouldn't have joined their little nosy charade anyway, and because he didn't actually care in the first place.

Besides. Even though he wasn't exactly above stooping low and invading someone's privacy, as Tahno's old teammates had so plainly put it, and that he _could_ have been of use to Sato and the buffoon had he wanted to be, the notion that this development between his intern and her new interest _was,_ until tonight, a relatively private matter—_that it even existed at all..._ Well.

A cool breeze settled through the open window, but it felt weak and insubstantial against the clammy heat of his skin.

For a split second, it actually occurred to him that it might be Ming or Shaozu—but then he put the idea out of his mind forever. (Not only was it improbably due to _the—regrettable—fact_ that she'd met the two of them only the day before, but it also wouldn't have made sense _because it was Ming and Shaozu_.)

And even if he wouldn't ever admit it out loud—and even if she _was_ wasting her time with Mako—Tahno trusted that his intern had better sense than to be drawn to a couple of (admittedly preferable) idiots like Ming and Shaozu. (And then, before he could help it, Tahno wondered what kind of idiot she _would_ be drawn to.) His mind flooded with images of all sorts of characters, wild habits and wild hair, dangerous bad-boys and boring goody-two-shoes and other weird stereotypes that he hadn't known his subconscious had even possessed. Maybe it was another classmate? Some other barely-out-of-college kid—another coffee addict, even? (A vision of a coffee house apron and unimpressively scribbled name tag immediately came to mind. _No,_ Tahno thought vehemently. _Not a chance. She doesn't even know the kid_.) Maybe it was another cookie-cutter guy like stoic-and-stiff, muscle-barreling, brain-dead Mako?

Tahno paused. _Doesn't the engineer live with a brother?_ Now that he thought about it, she'd been awfully adverse to the idea of taking her _business_ with Mako back to his apartment the night of the Unspeakable Sex Duel... Was it possible that her resistance had something to do with the brother? On the one hand, it was possible that she simply didn't want the younger brother to catch wind of it—_Wait, they are all supposed to be friends, aren't they? Not that I'm any expert on the matter, but_—on the _other_ hand... His mind was jumping so quickly he couldn't even complete the thought. Was it possible that she was actually into the younger brother? _Who else could it be?_ It wasn't like she really spent time with any other men. (Or _did_ she?) But then if she really _were_ into the younger brother, then why the _hell_ would she be with Mako in the first place, anyway?

Unfortunately, it was already a question he asked himself many times a day.

"Motherfucker," he muttered to himself, rubbing his hands over his tired eyes. Tahno could barely feel his face. He was thinking too much. His head hurt.

With a great sigh, Tahno sat up straighter in his seat and shifted the car into drive. He had the sense to check his mirrors and use all the proper turn signals, even though the streets were embarrassingly empty for a late Friday night. He let his mind run blank as he pulled onto the highway, thinking only of the coming day. He'd given Sato his word that he would forgo his busy work schedule for a few (too many) precious hours in favor of spending the whole day with her tomorrow—as part of her operation to lighten him up a bit, apparently. Tahno would take it to the grave, but his old roommates' words about _losing his touch _had actually gotten to him. (A little.) Thus, in a small effort to revive some of his wilder youth, he decided that—just this once—he would let himself be dragged along with Sato's idea of spontaneity, and he couldn't really deny that on some level he was looking forward to it, and that, on another level, it was also the furthest thing from his mind. He also had to admit that the differences in Asami's behavior seemed more noticeable tonight than before, though hell if he knew what that was all about. _I'd start feeling on edge, too, if I had to put up with spontaneous visits from asshole-Mako._ Oh, wait. He already did.

_Whatever,_ Tahno huffed, sliding his gaze to his rearview mirror and switching lanes. It was time to head home. He wouldn't think about any of it any more, not tonight. Not his intern nor her roommate nor any of their (his) idiotic friends. Tahno conceded that as long as her _interests_ didn't do anything to interfere with her responsibilities at the lab, then what his intern did with her free time wasn't any of his business, and thus resolved not to mention it. _Fuck all of them_, he thought suddenly, though it was completely devoid of any real venom, of anything other than exhaustion. _I'm just a guy trying to run a lab, and she's just my intern._ She could do whatever the hell she wanted.

She usually did, anyway.


	70. that just wouldn't fucking end

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.  
**Word Count:** 3,674  
**Author's Notes: **_8/4/13_. Maybe I'll have the next part out tonight. Maybe I won't. ;) We'll see how fast I can write, haha.

**Musical Inspiration:** "Stutter" by Marianas Trench.

**Beta'd **by **Rhi.**

* * *

**That one night**  
_that just wouldn't fucking end._

* * *

**Saturday**  
_March 23rd_  
(1:07am)

He did not expect to find his intern asleep on the couch.

Bone tired, but unable to sleep, Tahno had veered off the highway onto the first exit he'd seen and driven all the way back into the city and parked in the lab's empty parking lot. It had _seemed _like a logical plan, at the time. (If Asami wasn't going to let him do any work the next day, then he might as well get some done that night. Right?) Not bothering to battle the front door's busted lock again, he used the special pin code for the rear entrance, fumbled with his building key, and then slipped inside the dark halls, trying not to remember that one night he and his intern had found something demonic lurking around the corners. They really _were_ a couple of idiots. _The both of us_. At long last, he entered his second home, a space that was both his beloved sanctuary and his personal hell.

Only to find another case of his intern fast asleep somewhere where she shouldn't be. And it was Tahno, of course, who was presented with the task of waking her.

_Yeah, right_. He knew better than to try to wake a knocked-out dragon when he saw one. The last thing he needed was some fire-breather sending up the rest of (what was left of) his office in flames. Tahno glanced to the clock and sighed. 1AM. Even when asleep her presence was unavoidable, like a heavy weight on his mind. How was he supposed to get any work done now?

But Tahno was nothing if not stubborn.

* * *

She did not expect to wake up and find Tahno slumped over his desk, dead asleep.

After the few moments it took Korra to remember how she'd ended up being eaten by a couch, she turned to the source of light across the room; perhaps her mind was _preparing_ to come to the conclusion of _I should turn the lights off, _but amidst the groggy state one feels after falling unexpectedly asleep, all she'd managed was a solid _ehh—?_

Because then she'd found him, and it took more than a few moments to convince herself that it wasn't simply a dream. (_It wouldn't have been totally unusual_, she claimed sleepily, defensive even against herself, even in her own thoughts. _Everybody dreams about their workplaces. Sometimes. _She bet they didn't imagine their supervisors getting drenched head-to-toe from the pounding rain of indoor sprinkler water, _but anyway_.)

Apart from a little shifting to relieve the aches in her muscles and the awkward stiffness of her spine, Korra didn't bother to move from her spot. Instead, she watched him as she always did; from the comfort of her couch, draped with notes, while he was none the wiser. _I told him he had terrible posture, _she thought, only marginally more awake.

Yet even while slouched over his desk, he still looked like he belonged there. Dark jeans, dark dress shirt, head cradled in his folded arms, face blank; he looked put together even while passed out. Just once—_just once_—Korra would have liked to see Tahno let down his act—if, in fact, it was one. She'd like to see _him_ a little disheveled. (And seeing him shirtless on her couch hadn't counted either, _so don't even get me started on—)_

_Maybe I should wake him up? _She dismissed the thought almost immediately, mostly out of laziness. If she woke him up, he would probably just nag her. He might even yell at her for using his lab as a personal study and, later, a really awful resting spot. (Though now that she thought about it, perhaps it was a little strange that _he _hadn't woken _her_ up first?) And now that she _really _thought about it—_what the hell is he doing here in the first place?_

Korra checked her cellphone, rightly thinking that it would be the most reliable source of information to turn to first. Sure enough, Asami had sent her a (questionably appropriate) good luck text for the evening and a reminder that they were due for both a ladies' night _and_ a double date. With a huff, Korra dropped her silenced phone back into her backpack. _Yeesh, woman. Let me at least handle a single date first_. And she was going to have to mention that newest development to her roommate sooner rather than later, Korra realized with a frown. Not content with being only just _slightly _miserable, Korra then began to wonder why she'd never taken Asami up on any of her double date offers while she was with Iroh... _Uhh, probably because I didn't have anyone to go with_, she remembered grumpily, thinking back to all of those well-intentioned, poorly-destined, friend-of-a-friend, _oh-Korra-you'll-love-him_ attempts at matchmaking. Right.

_Screw this_, she thought, as well-remembered exasperation swelled within her chest. Feeling overcome by a heavy sense of frustration, Korra blew the air out from her cheeks and settled her textbooks to the floor. With a few quick, sloppy jerks, Korra's upper-half was back in the warmth of her sweatshirt. Sparing another glance at her passed-out supervisor, Korra laid herself out more fully on the couch.

She was tired and she wasn't _technically _doing anything wrong, and Tahno would never know that she'd woken up, anyway.

Besides. If he really wanted her out, he would have kicked her out a long time ago.

* * *

_… what?_

The last thing Tahno remembered was going over the itinerary for the following weekend's conference, and he was pretty sure that by that point his speech notes had _not _been glued to his cheek with drying sweat. Feeling the kind of disgust that one could only feel after waking up in one's day clothes (and in an uncomfortable position to boot), Tahno slowly raised himself to something that more closely resembled a seated position, and carefully wiped away the grime at his eyes. His intern had joked once or twice about buying an inflatable air mattress with the lab funds as a means of investing for his longevity and, though he had responded as he normally did to such inane suggestions—ignore them, completely—he had to admit that perhaps, this time, his intern's idea held some merit. Which reminded him. _There was something in the contract about one of those instant coffee makers... _

_Wait. _

His intern.

Almost fearfully, Tahno looked up. A long sigh escaped him, for there she was, in all of her young-blood glory. Had she sprawled out even further? Or was she curled up for warmth? Given the lack of contrast between her dark jeans and navy blue hoodie with the dark colors of the couch, it was rather difficult to tell; from this angle, it appeared that one leg had fallen into the abyss between the cushions while one arm hung loosely over the side of the couch and the other—_wait._ Blue?

Ignoring the creaks and cracks of his knees as he stood and stretched, Tahno released another disgruntled sigh. His intern. With slow, reluctant steps, Tahno approached the couch. It was like walking straight toward a minefield, he reckoned. _No, not a minefield_. A minefield was full of uncertainty; Tahno knew exactly what he was drawing nearer to and still, he kept moving closer. _It's like approaching a dragon's lair_, he decided, crossing his arms as he stared down into the sleeping face of his intern. She looked a lot younger when she was sleeping, he noticed with a frown. She looked a lot less likely to make fun of him. His eyes traveled down from her face to her right shoulder, to the fabric dyed in blue.

_What the hell is she doing here?_

"What the hell are you doing here?" she mumbled, causing Tahno to jump an inch-and-a-half into the air. Another glance to her sleeping face told him that she was, in fact, no longer sleeping, but instead blinking up at him through a bleary, _don't-I-recognize-you? _sort of haze. For a moment, he was too surprised to respond. "Tahno?" she croaked, rubbing at her eyes. "Why are you here? On a Saturday."

Uncomfortably, he cleared his throat. This conversation seemed awfully familiar. "I should be asking you the same thing," he managed, shrugging his shoulders a bit in an attempt to get to them to relax. "What are you doing on my couch?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Korra shortly replied, groggily shielding her eyes from the light. "And this isn't your couch. It's mine."

Tahno's glare was deadpan. "How is this your couch?" he asked, unsympathetic.

"I appreciate it more than you do," she argued, nestling her cheek more comfortably against the cushion.

"If that were a valid requirement of ownership, then that couch would be the _only _thing you own."

"That's not true. I'd have plenty of your stuff. I'd have all of your stuff, actually. I'd leave you out of house and home, like you left me."

A solitary arch rose high onto Tahno's brow. "You have an apartment," he reminded her.

"I _did_," she groaned from below, hissing as she stretched her right arm closer to the floor. Tahno glanced at the trail of skin left exposed from the rise of her sweatshirt over her lower back, then immediately looked away. "Until you decided to spend the night with Asami, which is what you're _supposed _to be doing right now."

Now Tahno was just confused. "You wanted me to spend the night at your apartment?"

"I wanted you to do what I _expected _you to do, which was to break Asami's promise for no sleepovers tonight and stay over anyway."

Tahno blinked. "_Why?_"

"Because if you didn't, then that means that you actually did the _decent _thing for once, and _that_ means that I came all the way to the office to spend the night in this bacteria-infest laboratory on this old couch for no good reason at all."

He paused. "That doesn't seem like the best way to talk about a couch that you own."

"Forget I ever said anything about you being decent," she grouched, twisting onto her back to look up at him. Now that she faced him fully, he could see the messy clump of bangs plastered to her temple, as well as the sliver of skin peeking beneath the slip of denim at her hip. _Don't worry_, he thought automatically, dragging his eyes back up to hers, which had fallen closed once more. _Seems like I already have_.

Licking his lips, and clearing his throat a little more pointedly this time, he nodded to the blue hood wrapped around her neck. "I hope you're not going to try to claim any foul play regarding your dear alma mater apparel and I," he trailed off meaningfully, only half-believing himself when he swore that he was _not _fishing for an explanation.

She scoffed a laugh and, little by little, Tahno began to see signs that she was finally waking up. "Tahno, the _only_ play you know about is foul."

He frowned. "I resent that."

"Yeah, well, go ahead. I'm not the one who examines _growths _for a living."

"Those two statements have absolutely _nothing _to do with—"

"What time is it?"

Tahno scowled. Instead of answering, he stepped to the side, allowing for a clearer view of the clock hanging on the wall. Her groan was tired and broken and, admittedly, just enough to make him feel a _little _bad. And then it evaporated. "Shouldn't you be at Mako's?" he asked suddenly, feeling an unnatural curiosity take hold.

She glared at the floor. "Shouldn't you mind your own business?"

Tahno's scowl deepened. He _did _mind his own business, thank you very much. In fact, he happened to be making a habit of minding his own business more than anyone else in their dysfunctional little group, it seemed like, but he didn't expect _her _to appreciate that. _I'm not an old couch_, _after all_. But enough of that.

"In case you've forgotten, I don't care about your little relationship with _Mako." Or any other, for that matter_. "But it is nearly one-thirty in the morning, and the lab is _closed_. You have an apartment, which just so happens to be free of me for the evening—as promised—and you also have something-of-a-man with an apartment who will probably allow you into it. Pick one."

"Don't kid yourself, Professor Bossy-Pants. I'm not going anywhere else tonight."

A severe frown overtook him. "I beg your pardon?"

"Well, thanks to you and your unusually chatterbox self, I'm wide awake." And as if to prove her point, she sat up, readjusted her sweatshirt, and picked up one of the textbooks stacked on the floor. "I plan to finish how I started."

Tahno stared at her blankly. "Drooling?"

She didn't even have the decency to produce a cutting remark.

She smiled up at him, bouncy and bright, and said, "Studying."

* * *

(2:16am)

"I'm sorry for what I said before, by the way. About your little dates with Asami."

Tahno barely even sent her glance. He didn't know how it was happening, but he had _actually _managed to get a respectable amount of work done and hell if he was going to get sidetracked now. _I don't even know what she's talking about, anyway._

"The other night?" she prompted, as if reading his mind. "In the pantry?"

_Ah_, he remembered, frowning slightly. _How could I have forgotten?_

"Do you remember what I'm talking about?" she asked, pestering him once more.

"Yes," he ground out impatiently, pointedly flipping a page of the packet in front of him. He clicked the mouse to his laptop a few times too, rather savagely, just for good measure. An advertisement for _hot young singles_ in his neighborhood immediately came flying over his internet browser. _Ugh. Give me fucking break, why don't yo—_

"We have a date tomorrow night, actually," she revealed, playing with the sleeves of her hoodie. Unexpectedly, his eyes jumped up toward the couch. He watched as she fiddled with a loose thread, strangely entranced by the color of the fabric in the light from his desk lamp. Her words passed over him, sounding much farther away than they should have. "Mako and I."

_This is... not what I was expecting. _Tahno peered at her curiously. Considering his words more carefully than he let on, he slyly commented, "Oh? Wasn't this supposed to just be casual?"

Korra shrugged. "It is. For now," she amended, brows furrowing thoughtfully. "I really _don't _feel the same way that I used to, but... you know. No harm in giving it a shot, right?" She looked at him curiously.

Tahno thought that there was a lot of harm, actually. He meant to tell her this, but it occurred to him that she might once again mistakenly get the impression that he cared about her business, which was precisely the opposite of what he was determinedly trying to prove.

"And until recently I was really only just using him for his body," she added thoughtfully.

Tahno blanched. Korra laughed.

"What? I'd have thought that you of all people would have been able to empathize. You're not gonna go all judgmental on me, are you? You'd be one to talk."

He frowned. "Meaning what, exactly?"

"Like you and Asami haven't been shamelessly sexing each other up for months," she said, her laugh suspiciously resembling a snort. "If you're not all about pure physical gratification, I don't know who is."

Tahno found himself remaining silent. It wasn't necessarily that he didn't know how to respond to that; it was just that he had no idea how the hell he was supposed to respond to that.

"But whatever. It's just part of your sleazy charm, I guess."

Tahno's right eyebrow perked. "Charm?"

"Oh, be quiet. I'm trying to work over here."

* * *

(2:52am)

He had no idea why he was awake.

Perhaps that wasn't the best way to phrase his current situation. Perhaps, _I have no idea why I am not home, in my bed_, was a better statement. Or even, _I have no idea why I am not asleep in the driver's seat of my car_. Because certainly, at no point in a state of sobriety would Tahno ever have concluded that it would be a reasonable idea to let himself fall asleep in his desk chair. Never mind—he always did that, sober or otherwise. _I have no idea why I let fall myself asleep in my desk chair while she is here. Twice. In one night. _

It wasn't like it was an incredibly comfortable way to sleep, anyway, and once he added in the fact that his intern was a mere ten feet away it became downright impossible. He didn't like the fact that he'd fallen asleep while she somehow remained awake, still reading that disgustingly thick textbook. It reminded him of the night that he'd spent on _her_ couch—the one in her apartment, not in his lab—and she'd woken up before him, leaving him feeling inexplicably vulnerable and exposed. He didn't like it.

"Why, hello_,_ sleeping beauty."

He glared through the faded smudges of his eyeliner. Now was _not _the time to push his limits. "You're still here?" he grumbled.

This seemed to surprise her, though he had no idea _why_. "I don't see why not," Korra shrugged, though her tone sounded the tiniest bit off. Offended, maybe? His brain was far beyond the point of critical analysis, that was for sure. "_You_ still are."

"That makes an awful lot of sense, considering how you ended up here precisely because you thought I _wasn't _going to be."

"I was just pointing it out," she retorted sharply, much meaner than he remembered her being before his nap. _Ugh_. "You snore, by the way."

Tahno sneered. "That is a _lie_."

Korra shrugged, casually returning her gaze to her textbook. What was she even _reading_? "Suit yourself," she offered indifferently, much to his annoyance.

The long minutes passed, and Tahno's restlessness only grew. Caught somewhere between the haze of desperately wanting to go to sleep and even more desperately _not _wanting to, Tahno had realized that any further productivity that evening would be _actually _impossible. He should have been going home. He should have _gone _home and yet, inexcusably, there he was, twisting himself around uselessly in his oversized desk chair, failing miserably at falling asleep. _It's just because I don't want to leave her here, _Tahno thought viciously, and then quickly amended, _I don't want to leave her alone in the lab. _And then,_Because she might break something. I don't want to leave before she does. _And so, through a really uncomfortable maze of half-formed thoughts, Tahno resigned himself to an equally uncomfortable conclusion: if his intern left, he left; if his intern stayed, he stayed.

Which was turning out to be really fucking difficult because _goddamn, has no one ever thought to invent a fucking comfortable chair before?_

"Dude, what are you _doing _over there?"

He actually snarled at her. "I am falling _asleep—_that is what I'm fucking doing!"

"Jesus, man—_calm down!_ No wonder you can't actually fall asleep—you're stiff as a rod."

His eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

"Well, just look at you! You're wound tighter than a two dollar watch."

"What... _what _are you talking about?"

"Dude, if you're trying to fall asleep, then you need to _relax_. And you're definitely not going to be able to do that scuffing up the floor in that rolley-polley chair, as you are now."

"I did it before," he snapped, not really feeling that it would be a meaningful point to remind her that it had actually happened _twice._

"Yeah, and look where that got you."

"What, are you an expert now?"

"I, for one, was actually well on my way to dreamland before you started all that racket."

Confused, Tahno glanced down to her lap, where her books and notes should have been; instead, he found that her lap was empty and there was a pile of books neatly stacked by the side of the couch, right next to her shoes. _Ah_, was all he thought.

"You know," she said suddenly, much more softly than before. A small laugh escaped her, and Tahno's confusion doubled. "It's kind of funny. With you in the big recliner chair and me on the couch. It reminds me of that one night where I ended up at your apartment during the rainstorm. When the power went out? And you were a total psycho. Remember?"

He was so over each and every single one of these late night conversations. Nothing about this situation was making him feel any better. If anything, it was actually doing a stellar job of making him feel even worse. "_Yes_," he ground out, awkwardly shifting himself slightly more to the side. _Hm. _That angle didn't really work well either.

"And I fell asleep on the couch and you fell asleep on the big chair," she continued, as if he hadn't responded with a very short, standoffish answer. "You had really good bagels." She settled further back into the couch, smiling to herself, but her words gave Tahno pause. His eyebrows knitted themselves together.

"You didn't fall asleep on the couch," he corrected sternly, accidentally kicking himself in an attempt to get his foot around the other side of desk's built-in shelves. "You fell asleep on the floor."

For a moment, there was blessed silence. Tahno leaned back into the chair with an exhausted sigh, feeling his spine cry out in relief as he let his legs sprawl out to each side. _Finally, _he breathed, letting his eyes fall shut. A position that didn't make him want to cut himself in half.

"I fell asleep on the floor?" she asked quietly, as if she were still trying to understand the concept. _Goddamn, is this really that difficult? _He didn't bother to open his eyes as he answered.

"Yes," he muttered impatiently, already beginning to feel his muscles relax. _Thank the fucking— _"Now go to sleep."

And, to his surprise, she did.


End file.
